Frontier America

by William W. Johnstone

  And that could lead to a lot more trouble for all of them, Jamie told himself.

  CHAPTER 23

  Jamie stayed in the soldiers’ camp that night while Preacher returned to the Crow village. Lieutenant Hayden Tyler was eager to find out what had happened, but upon arrival Davidson stomped into his tent and jerked the flap closed behind him without even speaking to the junior officer. Tyler turned to Jamie with an expression that was annoyed and puzzled at the same time.

  “Judging by the way Lieutenant Davidson was just acting, I’d say things didn’t go well with the Crow this evening,” Tyler ventured.

  Jamie nodded. “You could say that.”

  “Broken Pine won’t cooperate about the treaty?”

  Jamie chuckled, but the sound didn’t contain any real humor.

  “Actually, they never even got around to talking about that,” he said. “Something else came up. A whole different problem.”

  “A different problem? I don’t understand.”

  “Lieutenant Davidson met Hawk’s wife. Preacher’s daughter-in-law, I guess you could say, although the Indians aren’t that formal about it.”

  In the light from the campfire, Jamie saw Tyler’s brow furrow. He went on, “She’s white, Lieutenant. Or she once was, I guess would be a better way of putting it. She considers herself Crow, and I sure wouldn’t want to argue the point with her.”

  “You mean she’s a . . . a captive?”

  “Not at all.” Quickly, Jamie sketched in Butterfly’s history for Tyler, then said, “So you can see why she thinks of herself as a member of the tribe and doesn’t want it any other way.”

  Tyler rubbed his chin and said, “I’d be willing to wager that Lieutenant Davidson doesn’t see eye to eye with her on the matter, however.”

  “He sure doesn’t. As soon as he noticed Butterfly’s blue eyes, he made up his mind that she was a prisoner and that it was up to him to rescue her and return her to her real family . . . even though her real family is Hawk and those two young’uns.”

  “Because rescuing a white captive would bring glory to him,” mused Tyler. “You read about those things from time to time, in the newspapers back east. The newspapers always fawn over someone who performs such a valiant task.”

  Jamie nodded and said, “I expect so. Stories like that sell papers, and that’s all those folks care about.” He dragged a thumbnail along his beard-stubbled jaw as he frowned in thought. “If Davidson ignores the mission that brought him here and decides that taking Butterfly away from the Crow is more important, it’s liable to get him in trouble not just with Captain Croxton but with the higher-ups, as well. On the other hand, when the newspapers decide that somebody’s a hero—whether he really is or not—and build him up, it’s hard for the army to punish him too much or hold him back from promotion. The politicians want a fella like that to succeed.”

  “So Edgar has to try to weigh everything and decide which course will benefit him most in the long run.”

  “You’ve known him for a while, haven’t you, Lieutenant?”

  “We were at West Point together, in the same class,” Tyler replied.

  “Has he always been this way?”

  “Ambitious? Stubborn as a mule? Convinced that he’s always right and that everyone is conspiring against him?” Tyler laughed softly. “I’m afraid so. He comes from a long line of officers. His father is a colonel who fought in the Mexican War. His grandfather served with Andrew Jackson during the War of 1812, and his great-grandfather was a member of General Washington’s staff during the revolution. There are a great many expectations he has to live up to.” Tyler shrugged. “But he’s made that work well for him so far. He excelled at the Point and was promoted to first lieutenant very quickly after being commissioned. Some of us are still waiting.”

  “I’ve seen plenty of good officers,” Jamie told the young man. “You’re going to be one of them, Hayden. Just be patient.”

  “I hope you’re right, sir. In the meantime . . . what do we do about Lieutenant Davidson?”

  “Wait for him to make up his mind,” said Jamie. “And hope that he doesn’t decide to raise hell and shove a chunk under the corner.”

  * * *

  Butterfly was as proud and courageous as any Crow woman, but Preacher thought she looked a little like she wanted to cry as she stood in the lodge she shared with her husband and children.

  She spoke in a low voice so as not to wake the sleeping youngsters as she said to Hawk, “You will not allow that terrible man to take me away from this place, will you?”

  “Never believe that such a thing could happen, even in the worst dreams that haunt your sleep,” Hawk said as he rested his hands on her shoulders. He drew her gently against his chest and circled his arms around her protectively. “This is your home and we are your family, and it will always be that way.”

  Preacher stood on the other side of the fire from the embracing couple. The three of them had returned here after the unpleasant encounter in Broken Pine’s lodge.

  He let Hawk comfort Butterfly for a few more moments, then said, “It would probably be a good idea if you didn’t venture too far from the village by yourself while those soldiers are around here, Butterfly.”

  Hawk turned his head sharply to look at Preacher.

  “You believe the white men would try to steal Butterfly away from her home?”

  “I ain’t been acquainted with that Lieutenant Davidson for long enough to be sure what he’s capable of. I’ve seen enough that I sure don’t trust him, though, and you shouldn’t, either.”

  “I would never trust a man like that,” Hawk declared. “And if he comes in the village again, I will—”

  Preacher held up a hand to stop his son’s ominous words.

  “If you were about to say you’d shoot him or split his head open with a tomahawk, I understand the feelin’, believe me. It just comes natural after you’ve spent a little time around the varmint. But you got to remember . . . he has a lot of soldiers with him, and all those soldiers have rifles. Some of’em have pistols and sabers, too. Unless you’re backed in a corner, don’t start a fight unless you know you’ve got a good chance of winnin’ it.”

  “And if we are backed into a corner, as you say?”

  “Well, then it’s root, hog, or die,” Preacher replied with a grin. “But if Jamie MacCallister has anything to say about it, things won’t come to that.”

  “MacCallister seems like a good man,” Hawk admitted grudgingly as he continued holding Butterfly.

  Preacher nodded and said, “He’s one of the best. First time I met him, he was younger than you were when we first ran into each other. Him and this strong-minded little gal he’d married up with were on their way to a place they thought they might want to settle, but they had three different batches of trouble on their trail. I helped ’em handle those scrapes, and I could tell even then that Jamie was one hell of a fightin’ man, despite still bein’ a kid. I’ve heard a lot about him since then, and he ain’t ever done nothin’ to make me think I was wrong about that.”

  Butterfly slipped out of Hawk’s embrace and sank onto one of the buffalo robes. She said, “I will trust this man MacCallister, and of course the two of you, and not live in fear of the white soldiers. But I will be very careful.”

  Preacher nodded and told her, “That’s a good idea.”

  He said his good nights and slipped out of the lodge, intending to go back to the one he was using while he was visiting the village. Instead Hawk stepped out after him and said quietly, “Preacher.”

  The mountain man swung around. “What is it?”

  “You know that even though it means war between the Crow and those soldiers, I will not let that man take Butterfly away from me.”

  “Well, I can’t blame you for that, boy.”

  “Broken Pine and the others will agree with me.”

  Preacher nodded solemnly and said, “I know.”

  “If it comes to this . . . the Crow a
gainst the whites . . . on which side will you fight?”

  Preacher’s lips drew back from his teeth in a half-snarl.

  “You ask that of me? After all we been through together?”

  “You are white,” Hawk said simply, as if that explained everything.

  Preacher shook his head. “I didn’t expect that of you. I really didn’t. You and Butterfly and those young’uns are my family. The only real family I have. Damn right I’m gonna stand beside you, no matter what it takes. And you by God should’a knowed that!”

  “I believed that is what you would say. But your friend MacCallister . . . if he takes the side of the soldiers, will you fight him as well?”

  “I believe Jamie has more sense than that. I hope he does. But if things come down to it . . . I stand with you, Hawk, no matter who’s on the other side.”

  * * *

  Jamie was sitting on a lowered wagon tailgate and enjoying a breakfast of buffalo steak and biscuits the next morning, washed down with some of Corporal Mackey’s potent coffee, when Lieutenant Hayden Tyler came up to him.

  “Lieutenant Davidson sent me to find you, Mr. MacCallister. He wants to speak with both of us.”

  “Well, that’s enough to put a bad taste in a fella’s mouth, no matter how good the grub is.” Jamie grinned at Mackey. “And it’s mighty good, Corporal. But I reckon I’ve got to go see what the lieutenant wants.”

  He speared the last chunk of steak with his knife, chewed it thoroughly before swallowing, and then drained the last of the coffee in the cup. He could tell that Tyler was getting a little fidgety and impatient, so he smiled and added, “I didn’t say just how quick I’d get around to it, though.”

  Tyler opened his mouth to say something, but before the words came out, Jamie slid off the tailgate and stood up, taking a half-eaten biscuit with him as he started for Davidson’s tent.

  “I don’t suppose the lieutenant told you what’s on his mind,” Jamie said to Tyler as they walked side by side. He gnawed a bite off the biscuit.

  “Why would he?” Tyler responded with a note of bitterness in his voice. “I’m only a junior officer, after all.”

  “I believe he is, too,” Jamie pointed out. “Unless a first lieutenant is a whole hell of a lot more important than they used to be.”

  “He’s the ranking officer in this detail. Out here away from the fort, he might as well be a general.”

  That was probably just the way Davidson looked at the situation, too, thought Jamie.

  “Anyway, I don’t know what he wants,” continued Tyler, “but I’m sure he’ll tell us.”

  As they approached Davidson’s tent, the flap was pulled back and Sergeant Liam O’Connor stepped out. As he straightened, he caught sight of Jamie and Tyler coming toward him and stiffened. His mouth thinned down to a narrow line. Jamie was ready for some insulting comment from the sergeant, or even an attempted punch, but before he and Tyler reached the tent, O’Connor turned on his heel and stalked off without looking back.

  “Can’t say as I’m unhappy about that,” Jamie muttered. “I just had breakfast, and looking at O’Connor wasn’t going to do much for my digestion.”

  Tyler let that comment pass and pulled back the tent’s entrance flap slightly. He said, “Lieutenant Tyler reporting with Mr. MacCallister, as ordered.”

  “Come in,” Davidson barked from inside.

  Tyler pulled back the flap and motioned for Jamie to go first. Davidson stood without his uniform shirt and jacket on, using a razor to scrape the last bits of shaving soap from his face as he peered into a small looking glass he held in his other hand. He finished and set the razor and looking glass on a small folding table, then picked up a towel to wipe his face.

  “I have an assignment for the two of you,” he said without any sort of greeting. “I want you to go back to that Crow village this morning and speak once more to Chief Broken Pine. Convey my apologies to him for what happened yesterday evening.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Jamie said. His forehead creased in surprise. “You’re apologizing?”

  “That’s correct. I was out of line, and I want to be certain that Broken Pine knows I’m aware of that. I would very much like to meet with him again to discuss matters of mutual importance to both of us.”

  “The treaty,” Tyler said.

  “Exactly.” Davidson smiled faintly. “That’s much more important than some Indian woman, isn’t it? Or even, well, a white woman who believes herself to be a savage.” He began pulling on his shirt. “After all, we are who we believe ourselves to be, are we not?”

  “Uh, yes, sir, I suppose that’s right,” said Tyler, clearly taken aback by the reasonable attitude Davidson was displaying this morning.

  So was Jamie. After what had happened the night before, Jamie wouldn’t have been shocked if Davidson had gotten up this morning and ordered an attack on the Crow village. Instead, it seemed that he wanted to make amends for the unpleasantness.

  Wonders might not ever cease, but they were welcome when they came along, Jamie thought.

  “Tell Broken Pine that I would be happy to visit him again, and I promise to be on my best behavior this time,” Davidson went on. “Or, if he would prefer, he would be very welcome to come here. He could bring, perhaps, a dozen or so of his warriors, if he was concerned for his safety.”

  That would be about the last thing Broken Pine would want to admit, thought Jamie, but to be honest, he didn’t know how the chief would react to the invitation. All he and Tyler could do was deliver it.

  “All right, we can do that,” Tyler said. He looked over at Jamie. “Mr. MacCallister?”

  Jamie’s broad shoulders rose and fell. “Sure, we’ll tell him what you said, Lieutenant. Then we’ll come back and tell you what he has to say in reply.”

  “Very well.” Davidson shrugged into his jacket and began fastening its brass buttons. “I’ll be waiting eagerly to hear his response. Dismissed.”

  Tyler saluted, then he and Jamie left the tent. Once they were outside, Jamie said quietly, “Well, if that doesn’t beat all . . .”

  “I suppose he decided the mission was more important than hunting for personal glory.”

  “Maybe so.”

  Jamie sounded as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it just yet, though.

  * * *

  Broken Pine had given two warriors the job of keeping watch on the soldiers’ camp during the night, and this morning at dawn, two more warriors had taken their place. Preacher thought posting guards like that was a good idea. When you were dealing with someone whose actions you couldn’t really predict, it was a good idea to stay as alert as possible.

  So the mountain man wasn’t surprised when one of those sentries raced into the village later in the morning and brought his pony to a swift halt. The drumming hoofbeats as the rider approached got everyone’s attention. Most of the village’s inhabitants were waiting for him, including Preacher, Hawk, Butterfly, and Broken Pine.

  The man slid off the pony’s back and announced, “Two riders come from the soldier camp. One wears the blue coat, and the other is the white man called MacCallister.”

  Broken Pine looked over at Preacher and said, “Your friend returns. This is a good sign, since he seems to be a friend to the Crow, as well.”

  “I reckon whether it’s a good sign or not depends on who the soldier is,” Preacher replied. “If it’s that Lieutenant Davidson, I ain’t so sure, even if Jamie is with him.”

  The visitors reached the village a short time later. Preacher was relieved to see that Jamie’s companion was Lieutenant Hayden Tyler, who seemed to be a decent young man even though he was sort of hamstrung by his commitment to follow military protocol.

  The two men dismounted. Broken Pine told them, “Welcome.”

  “That’s a pretty generous greeting, Chief, after what happened last night,” Jamie said.

  “Thank you for allowing us to visit, Chief Broken Pine,” Tyler said. “I’ve come to apol
ogize.”

  “It was not you who gave offense,” Broken Pine responded with just a hint of a smile, although his voice was steady and solemn.

  “I know, but I’ve been ordered to convey the regrets of my superior officer, Lieutenant Edgar Davidson. He’s sorry for what happened and takes all the blame for the incident.”

  Broken Pine inclined his head a little and said, “Your chief’s words are accepted. You can tell him that when you return to your camp.”

  Tyler fiddled with his horse’s reins for a second, then said, “Actually, there’s more to the message I’m supposed to deliver. Lieutenant Davidson would like to resume discussions about you accompanying us to Fort Kearny so that you can meet with the representatives from Washington.”

  “About that treaty?” Broken Pine shook his head. “I will not talk about this now.”

  “The lieutenant is willing to come back here,” Tyler persisted, “but I think what he’d really like is for you to come to the camp and accept our hospitality while you talk about it.”

  Preacher squinted and said, “Sounds to me like that lieutenant of yours is askin’ Broken Pine to waltz right into a trap.”

  “No, no, not at all,” Tyler said hastily. “The chief can bring some of his warriors with him. It’s an open, honest invitation.”

  Broken Pine said, “I believe you speak the truth, Lieutenant . . . or at least what you believe to be the truth. But there will be no more talk of treaties, either here or in your camp. I have thought long about this matter, I have spoken with the wise men of our village, and I have prayed to the spirits. There will be no treaty because there is no need for one. The white men will go their way and leave the Crow to travel their own paths. We will not be friends, but neither will we be enemies.”

  That sounded fair enough to Preacher, but he saw that Jamie looked disappointed. Lieutenant Tyler seemed positively stricken.

  “There’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind, Chief?” the young officer asked. “I know that Lieutenant Davidson would really like to bring this mission to a satisfactory conclusion—”