Twilight of the Coyote

by Ron Schwab

  “I want to go with Solly. Get me some poon tang up at the coop. I saw one of the Indian chicks I took a liking to.”

  “You will stay close by till I say otherwise. Move your brain from your pecker to your head for a while.”

  Bull Bullock scowled, but he didn’t challenge his brother.

  Chapter 22

  TREY

  I had left Kate off at the Shamrock Ranch well before supper the night before. Thankfully, her father had not returned yet, so I did not have to deal with his foul temper. I had walked Kate to the porch of the ranch house, but somehow it seemed awkward when we said our good-byes. I told her I would talk to her soon, and she said she would let me know if she heard from Sage Rainmaker, and then turned and scurried into the house.

  We had spent a lot of time together since my arrival in the Black Hills with the presidential party, and, after a rocky start, we had formed a comfortable friendship, or, at least an alliance, I thought. I liked Kate a lot, too much to chance hurting her. But I missed her company when we were not together, which was an alien feeling for me where women were concerned.

  I had hoped to speak with Willy Hobson this morning, but he had not shown up for work. He had not called in, so I did not take this as a positive sign. I checked with the hospital and received a report that Gabe’s condition was stable, which I was told was the most we could hope for at this stage. The nurse said Clara had already called. I had spoken to Clara after my own visit with Gabe at the hospital the previous afternoon and was informed she was already arranging for a train trip to Rapid City. She indicated the connections were terrible, but the Bureau of Investigation was helping with logistical details, and she expected to arrive within three days. The kids were coming with her. I decided not to forewarn Gabe.

  I had spoken briefly with the president after breakfast. He planned to spend the afternoon at the Rapid City high school building, where the official presidential offices had been set up. He understood that I would not be available for budget work any time soon, if ever. He seemed worried and preoccupied, not quite his usual calm, focused self. I had decided to go to Rapid City myself and recruit Bing Compton to go with me to Gabe’s hotel room to pick up Gabe’s clothing and personal things and to determine whether he had left any notes that might be helpful. I had also planned on Bing’s help in finding respectable accommodations for Clara and the kids, but when I mentioned it to the first lady, she said she would find something at the State Game Lodge. I told her they could appropriate my room, if necessary, as I would be spending most of my time in town. It occurred to me that I might just take over Gabe’s room at the hotel.

  All plans were disrupted when Starling summoned me to one of the secure telephones. When I picked up the receiver, Kate’s voice greeted me. I had given her the number yesterday, but she had been warned to speak cautiously because her own party line was not secure.

  “Your reservation friend called,” she said. “Can you make a visit at one o’clock?”

  “If the distance isn’t too great.” I looked at my pocket watch. It was nine-thirty.

  “That will not be a problem. I will be at your place in a half hour. We will need to talk.” That meant a maniac would be tearing down the road between the Shamrock and the game lodge. The line went dead before I could respond.

  I asked Starling to alert agents at the gate that Kate Connolly would be arriving in the next half hour. I decided I would wait for her on the front veranda. I encountered Grace Coolidge in the hallway and informed her that Kate would be arriving shortly. She asked that Kate visit with her a few minutes if she had time. She said she would be reading in the private lodge room.

  I thought about Kate’s remarks. I was optimistic that Sage Rainmaker had arranged a meeting with the young brothel escapee. Why else would we be visiting the teacher from the reservation? I reminded myself to remain patient. I trusted Kate, and I assumed she already had the agenda set, whatever it might be.

  Chapter 23

  KATE

  Kate was waved through the gate when she turned the 1923 Buick into the long, winding driveway. She had purchased the vehicle with the proceeds from sale of some of her calves several years previously, but her father had not permitted her to take it with her to school. He delivered her to the Brookings campus and picked her up personally for vacations and school breaks. A woman had no business wheeling a car about a college campus, he said. Well, in the event she returned to college, she would not be trapped there afoot anymore. She paid for her own education and lodging expenses, and she would be twenty-one years old in the fall. She and Owen Connolly were going to have an understanding before the summer was out, or, if not, she and her cows were moving to other pastures.

  When she pulled into the parking lot, she saw Trey waiting on the porch. He was duded-up in jacket and tie today, and, suddenly, she felt rather shabby attired in boots and faded denims. But what did she care about how she was dressed when he saw her?

  After she parked and got out of the car, he came down the steps to greet her. As she neared, he reached out as if to embrace her, and then dropped his arms, evidently having second thoughts about it.

  “Good morning,” he said. “You beat a half hour by two minutes. Impressive. And scary.”

  “Nothing scary about it if you know the country, and I’ve hit every curve and twist on the road hundreds of times.”

  “Nice looking vehicle. Kind of an emerald color and got more curves than the Model T cars assigned to the so-called public servants.”

  “And my Buick’s a hay-burner compared to the Model T. But I don’t care if it guzzles some extra gas. I love it.”

  Trey suggested they sit on the porch, and they sat down in a pair of cushioned, wicker armchairs. From the sober look on his face, she could see he was all business and finished with small talk.

  “You said Sage called. But you left me in suspense. Will the girl talk to us?” he asked.

  “Yes. At least she told Sage she would. She could back out at the last minute, though, and Sage will not reveal her name until we meet.”

  “Are we meeting at the school? How long will it take us to get there?”

  “We’re meeting in Hermosa. At the Congregational church there.”

  “I’ve heard that name someplace. Small town, I gather?”

  “A village. Less than a hundred people live there. It’s a dozen miles from here. We’ll take my car. We can be there in twenty minutes.”

  “A half hour would be fine.”

  “Sage joined the Congregationalists. Rolf Lium is the student pastor there for the summer, and he will see we have privacy. Incidentally, I’m surprised you haven’t been to the church. The president and first lady attended last Sunday according to the Rapid City Journal. They’re Congregationalists, and the Hermosa church is going to be their church for the summer.”

  “I must have had other business Sunday.”

  “Do you go to church?”

  “For funerals and weddings.”

  “I’m kind of Catholic.”

  “How can you be kind of Catholic?”

  “Well, I was baptized in the church, and we attended mass every Saturday or Sunday faithfully before Mom went off to the war. Then Dad got mad at the priest about something, and we stopped. I might go back to the church or join another when I’m out on my own. I think I need a church. I’m prone to sin.”

  “Now, why would you say that?”

  She was not about to tell him why. “We’re all sinners, I guess, but I worry about it some and think I might find peace and strength at a church.”

  “We were talking about the interview with the young lady before we got sidetracked. Do you think I should change into something less formal for this?”

  She studied him thoughtfully and chastened herself for thinking she might enjoy helping him change. Perhaps she should not delay returning to the church. “No,” she said. “I think you would seem more authoritative dressed the way you are. She needs to feel she is talking t
o someone who has the power to protect her.”

  Trey seemed to be pondering her words. Then he nodded agreement. “I understand that. If I look like a saddle bum, she might wonder if I’m trustworthy. So, that’s settled. Now, the first lady would like to visit with you.”

  “She would? Why?”

  “I have no idea. She’s in the private lodge room. I’ll show you to the room, and then I’ll talk to the cook and see if I can beg something for an early lunch. I’ll meet you back here when you’re finished.”

  After Trey led her to the private room, Kate tapped on the doorframe before she entered the open doorway. Grace Coolidge looked up from her book. “Come in, dear. Thank you for joining me.” She waved her hand in the direction of a chair on the other side of the lamp table.

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  The first lady held up her book. “Edna Ferber. Show Boat. It’s a very uplifting novel. I hope to see the musical and the film that’s going to be made.”

  “I love her work. I read So Big and it really touched me.”

  “Yes, it won the Pulitzer Prize. She’s one of the few popular novelists to join that elite circle of writers. I will give you my copy of Show Boat when I have finished it.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Surely, she was not summoned to discuss literature with Mrs. Coolidge.

  “I would like to ask a favor of you.”

  “Certainly.”

  “The president has been in something of a funk for a day now. We ordinarily talk about anything that’s troubling either of us, but, occasionally he turns even more quiet than usual. He’s on the back patio enjoying the morning sun . . . he didn’t even go fishing this morning. I would like to you to speak with him.”

  “Me? Speak with the President of the United States about a funk?” The mere thought horrified her.

  The first lady laughed and reached across the table and patted her arm. “Good heavens, no. He just enjoys your company. We both do. Maybe you’re the daughter we never had. I think it might brighten his mood if you accidentally wandered onto the patio. Pretend to be surprised to find him there. Then strike up a conversation. Just talk. You don’t have to pry.”

  “This sounds rather devious.”

  Grace Coolidge laughed again. “Yes, it is devious. Sometimes a woman’s happiness requires us to resort to such tactics. We must be certain, of course, the cause is worthy.”

  “Well, certainly, I would like to help.” Kate smiled. “And it sounds like fun.”

  Chapter 24

  KATE

  Kate stepped out onto the stone pavers that formed the patio. President Coolidge was sitting in a rickety rocking chair that looked like it had more than served its time. Coolidge was rocking slowly, staring off into the dark hills, his face pensive. He turned his head at her approach, and then smiled and stood up.

  “Kate. This is a nice surprise.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. President. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she lied.

  “Please sit down. And I’m Uncle Cal. Remember?”

  He moved a chair closer to his rocker and, only after she was seated in the chair he offered did he return to his rocker. Imagine, she thought, being seated by the President of the United States.

  “You are Uncle Cal in my mind,” she said. “But you are also the president, and I would not feel right not recognizing that.”

  Coolidge sighed. “Can I tell you something confidentially?”

  “Of course.”

  “I am tired of being president.”

  “But the newspapers say you are planning next year’s campaign. And no one in your party will challenge you for the nomination.”

  “You are reading political things?”

  “Only since I met you. I’m trying to make up for lost time. I never paid attention to politics before. It seems like a nasty business.”

  “It is that. Always has been, and always will be, I fear.”

  “How do you handle all the criticism and outright vicious attacks that come your way?”

  “One just cannot take it personally. I rarely respond, and the fuss burns itself out for lack of oxygen most times. But, as I say, I no longer enjoy what I am doing.”

  “Are you saying you are going to quit?”

  “Oh, no. I have a contract with the people for another year and a half. I have a duty to complete my term. I will do that, and I will do my very best. I speak often of persistence as a high virtue. I will persist. But I must decide soon whether I will seek another term.”

  “You would be reelected.”

  “Perhaps. But the voters are very fickle and can change their minds with tomorrow’s headlines. I never aspired to the presidency, you know. I was governor of Massachusetts and was surprised when Harding selected me to join him on the ticket as the vice-presidential candidate. Then, of course, his death put me in the White House. After completing my own term, I will have served six years. Another term would extend to ten years. I question whether it is good for the country to have a president for that long. Kings and emperors were not the vision of the founding fathers. And as Lord Acton said, ‘power corrupts.’ I believe that. The best of men . . . or women . . . succumb to that aphrodisiac, if exposed for too long. They come to believe they are indispensable where, in fact, at any point in history there are thousands of people in the country capable of assuming the responsibility and serving very well.”

  “You have already made up your mind, haven’t you?”

  He was silent for several moments, rocking silently in his chair, gazing at the distant mountains again. “Yes, I suppose I have. But I didn’t realize it until just this minute. Thank you, Kate.”

  Kate got up and placed a soft kiss on the president’s forehead. He gave her a startled look. “You will always be my Uncle Cal,” she said. “And whatever you do, I will be honored to have known you. Your secret is safe with me, Mr. President, until you decide to release it to the world.”

  Chapter 25

  TREY

  Kate drove her Buick to the rendezvous with Sage Rainmaker and the Sioux girl. We did reach the little clapboard church in twenty minutes, and it was a harrowing experience. I have never cared much for speed, either on horseback or in a motor vehicle, and I vowed I would not return to the lodge with this woman unless she surrendered the steering wheel.

  When we pulled into the graveled parking area, I saw a lanky, blond man leaning against a railing in front of the newly whitewashed church. “That’s Rolf Lium,” Kate said. “He’s the student pastor who is serving the church this summer. I met him at an ice cream social the church ladies held a few weeks back. He’s very nice, but he’s rather shy. Don’t be obnoxious with him.”

  Before we stepped out of the Buick, I turned to her and said, “When have I ever been obnoxious with anyone?”

  “I found you obnoxious when we first met. Not so much so now.” She smiled. “Just teasing. You do need to work on your sense of humor.”

  I did not reply. I was not in a mood for playful banter. I would have to work on the sense of humor some other time. As we strolled up the brick walk toward the church building, the young pastor walked out to greet us, a nervous smile crossing his sunburned face. He was a blond, blue-eyed Scandinavian, wearing a white-shirt and tie, and I daresay he and I were the best-dressed men in the hamlet that afternoon. He was not packing a gun, however.

  “Good afternoon, Rolf,” Kate said, cheerily.

  “Kate, it’s good to see you again.”

  Kate? Rolf? This guy’s eyes looked damn lustful to me. And I supposed a woman would not find him unattractive. He would bear watching. Gramps had always been wary of preachers, and I guessed the wariness had rubbed off on me.

  “Rolf,” Kate said, “this is Trey Ramsey, the BI agent who is supposed to meet with Sage and her friend.”

  At least she remembered I was with her. Pastor Lium extended his huge hand, and I took it and lost my own in a bone-breaking grip that was well-beyond firm. South Dakota was t
ough country for my crippled paw.

  Rolf said, “My pleasure, Trey, if I may call you Trey?” He spoke with a slight accent. He was probably third generation American. Perhaps, his grandchildren would start to speak normal English.

  “Certainly, you may call me Trey. I appreciate your cooperation with setting up the interview here.”

  “I don’t know the particulars, but I understand that the lives of young reservation women are at stake. If there is any way we can help, we have a duty to be involved. I have set up a small folding table and chairs on the floor in front of the altar. The two of you may enter the church. You will find Sage and Cleo Yellow Bird seated at the table. I will wait out here to assure you are not interrupted.”

  “Just let me know if someone shows up who doesn’t appear to belong here.”

  “I will do that.” He nodded toward the church entrance. “I also have my weapons inside the door. Just in case.”

  I was going to have to reevaluate this man. He sounded like one who would use a firearm without hesitation, if necessary. “I don’t expect to have any problems, but it’s comforting to have a lookout who won’t just be an usher. Thanks.”

  “Go on in. I will keep my eye out.”

  Kate and I continued up the walk and entered the church. When we were inside the vestibule, leaning against the wall, I saw a Winchester, along with a double-barrel shotgun and a rifle I could not identify that appeared big enough to take down an elephant. I had a hunch the student pastor knew how they worked.

  When we stepped into the sanctuary, I immediately caught sight of Sage Rainmaker and our witness. As we walked down the center aisle and drew nearer, I was stunned by the apparent youth of the girl. I had imagined a young woman of eighteen or nineteen years. This girl seemed much younger.

  Sage stood up as we approached and spoke softly, “Kate and Trey, this is Cleo Yellow Bird, the young lady I was telling you about.”