The Legend of Indian Stream

by Steven Landry

  Ruby watched as the first seven wagons rumbled past their position. The Wagon Master held up his hand, stopping the eighth wagon. Mr. Carver signaled to Ruby and she climbed out of the LTV.

  “Let’s go get your kids,” he said. Her former owners watched stone faced as Mr. Carver and Mr. Volant escorted her to the rear of the wagon. She called out to Austin and Grace, and soon their faces appeared above the rim of the wagon.

  “Mama!” they cried in unison, and scrambled out of the wagon into her waiting arms.

  Ruby saw Miss Jennifer getting out of her LTV to open the rear door so Ruby could load the children into the vehicle. She heard a loud “You!” from behind. The driver of the ninth wagon stood and pointed a pistol at Miss Jennifer. Ruby thought she heard him pull the trigger, but the gun didn’t fire. Mr. Johnson shot the man in the chest before he could fire again, knocking him backwards off the wagon.

  There was a lot of yelling and pointing of guns.

  “You saw him draw and fire first,” Mr. Carver yelled.

  “Yes, he did,” agreed the Wagon Master loudly. Everyone seemed to calm down. A woman emerged from the ninth wagon and climbed down to where the man lay on the ground. Seeing that he was clearly dead, the woman kicked him in the ribs. She climbed back into the wagon and disappeared under the canvas top.

  ***

  Susan Riley Brooks made up her mind in an instant. She had no intention of continuing on to California. Archie, her idiot second husband, had just followed his brother, who had been her first husband, into the grave. The whole enterprise had been a foolish idea, and she wondered for the thousandth time why she had married the impotent brute. Archie had sold the dry goods business she and her first husband had built in Kansas City to finance this expedition, and there wasn’t a lot of money left.

  Something bad had happened to Archie on a trip up to Omaha in August that he wouldn’t talk about. Since then, he hadn’t been able to get it up; in fact his once huge penis seemed to be shrinking, and his body hair had been falling out as well. She’d overheard a conversation between him and one of his drinking buddies about being cursed by a witch, but that seemed like nonsense. The good news was that his two idiot friends, Clem and Little Richie, had disappeared at about the same time.

  After confirming that he was indeed dead, she went to comfort her children in the wagon. They were clearly scared, but she also saw relief in their faces. They hadn’t loved the bastard either. She climbed back down off the wagon again. Two men from the wagon train were digging a grave for Archie.

  Ignoring the men, she headed straight for the woman her late husband had tried to kill.

  “I’m sorry for your husband--” the woman began.

  “Don’t be,” Susan said, cutting her off. “He brought it on himself. Are you folks headed back to Leavenworth?”

  “Near enough,” the woman answered. “But we’ll be travelling much faster than your wagon could ever go.”

  “That’s not a problem if you have room for me and my two children,” Susan replied. “I’ll sell whatever we can’t fit.”

  “Agreed.” The woman introduced herself as Jennifer Carver. She introduced Susan to her father, Dwight Carver, and the other people that accompanied her. Susan sold the wagon, horses, and most of the contents at rock bottom prices to other families in the caravan. She helped load their few remaining belonging into the cargo spaces of the two strange vehicles Jennifer called LTVs. Aside from a few family heirlooms and mementos, it was mostly just clothing for her and the children. She also discarded her married name; she would be Susan Riley from now on.

  Susan and her two children squeezed into Dwight’s LTV and the little convoy set off eastward, moving without benefit of any horses. She asked Dwight how the vehicles moved and he tried to explain electric propulsion to her, but she understood little of it.

  During the journey, she told Dwight about how she and her first husband had built a thriving dry goods business in Kansas City before he died of a fever. Her husband’s brother had stepped in with a gallant proposal, then turned out to be not so gallant. He’d beaten her and the children, drank heavily, and probably cheated on her. Then he came up with the brilliant idea of going to California to prospect for gold. He sold the business, bought the wagon, and headed west.

  “You know how that ended,” she concluded.

  “The place we’re going is about half a day’s ride north of Leavenworth, Kansas,” Dwight told her. “Then we’ll be going by boat up the Missouri. I can have a boat take you down to Kansas City, but I have anothah proposition for you. How would you like to manage a dry goods and implements business in Omaha?

  “I would put up the money for the store and initial stock, in return for ten percent of the profit and you agreeing to take care of some equipment for us. There’s a farmhouse and barn near the Big Muddy that could be converted to a store that would be ideal for our purposes.”

  Susan was intrigued by the idea, and said so.

  “Also,” Dwight continued, “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with Ruby and her two children. We can’t take the children north with us. She could stay and work for you – she has her freedman papers, and I’ll provide those for the children as well. Solves several problems with a single stroke, as it were.”

  That conversation was the start of Riley Dry Goods and Implements.

  29 - ANNA

  Omaha, Nebraska Territory, USA, Saturday, December 22, 1855

  It was a bitterly cold day in Omaha, with a biting wind blowing across the plains. A few inches of snow remained from the latest storm. It was Anna’s first white Christmas since she’d left Germany. That thought, however, did little to warm her as she washed up in her room on the second floor of the refurbished farmhouse. The fireplace put out enough heat to keep the water in the basin from freezing, but the temperature in the house was far from comfortable.

  To make matters worse, she wanted to go into town today, to see if there was any word from Jake. As soon as they’d settled in Omaha, Miriam had sent a letter to assure her parents that she’d arrived safely in Omaha, and to inform them that they were about to be grandparents. The letter included her new address in Omaha, where they should send their letters and forward any letters from Jake.

  Fu Ming already had breakfast going when Anna descended the stairs. Anna had hired – more like purchased – the girl away from the boarding house, primarily as a means of keeping her quiet, but she’d proved to be an efficient housemaid.

  “Good morning, Fu Ming. How are you today?”

  “Very good, Mrs. Roberts. And you?” The girl’s English was improving.

  “I’m fine, but dreading the trip into town. The wind is howling like a banshee.”

  “What is banshee?”

  “What is a banshee,” she corrected. “Literally, it means woman of the barrows, from an Irish folktale about a messenger from another world. A banshee wailing nearby supposedly means someone is about to die. It’s just a myth to scare the kinder.”

  “In weather like this, it could very well mean someone is about to die.” Paul had joined them in the kitchen. “Are you sure you want to go into town today?

  “Jawohl. It’s the last day the post office will be open before Christmas, and I’m hoping for some word of Jake’s whereabouts. Plus, I’m expecting something from your in-laws for the baby. I’m sure they’re overjoyed. How is Miriam this morning, anyway?”

  “She says she’s feeling fine, but she looks tired. The baby is kicking a lot.”

  “So did you. Thought you were going to knock my spine out of alignment.”

  “Ha ha. I don’t want you riding alone in this weather. Take Fu Ming with you into town.”

  Anna sighed. “Okay, but you have to hook up the carriage for us.” Taking Fu Ming meant taking the carriage, since the girl couldn’t ride yet. On the plus side, if there was a large package from the Johnson’s, it would be easier to carry home in the carriage.

  The post office was on Riverfront
Road, just a block from the ferry landing. There was indeed a parcel from the Johnsons waiting for her. She cut the strings and ripped open the box. The first thing she saw was a hand-sewn baby quilt, made by Miriam’s mother and her sewing circle. Tucked inside the quilt were three letters. The first was addressed to Miriam, the second to Paul, and the third to her. The latter two were from Jake.

  Overjoyed, she looked at the return address.

  Jake Carlton, Happy Valley Ranch, care of Riley Dry Goods and Implements, Omaha, Nebraska Territory.

  Anna couldn’t believe it – Jake was in Omaha. She turned back to the clerk.

  “Where’s Riley Dry Goods and Implements?” she asked excitedly.

  “Mrs. Riley’s store is just up the street, about six blocks north,” he replied.

  “Danke.” Turning to Fu Ming, she thrust the package into the girl’s hands. “Let’s go!”

  Riley Dry Goods and Implements was housed in a huge converted barn along the riverfront. Whoever had built the place had been mindful of floods, and built the barn, the attached silo, and detached farm house up on high stone foundations. There was a crowded hitching post out front. Apparently Mrs. Riley ran a thriving business.

  Once Betty the Fourth was secured, they headed up the stairs to the store. Inside they found a well-organized, two-story establishment. The front half of the store was filled with racks of tools for farming and mining, the back half with shelves of dry goods. A sign indicated that the loft held men’s and ladies’ clothing. Anna went straight to the counter. A short, prim-looking black woman with a hand-carved nametag that read “Ruby” greeted her.

  “Good morning, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  “Good morning, Ruby. Is Mrs. Riley available? I’d like to speak to her.”

  “I’m sorry, she’s gone to the bank. But she’ll be back shortly. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

  “My son gave this store as a forwarding address for a place called Happy Valley Ranch. Do you know where that is?”

  “It’s a long ways upriver. They send a raft downriver to trade supplies and pick up their mail once every couple of months. In fact, there’s one here now. What’s your son’s name?”

  “Jake Carlton. Is he here?” Anna could hardly contain her excitement.

  Ruby smiled in recognition. “Oh, Mr. Jake. Such a nice man. No, he’s not here, but his boss is.” Ruby looked around for a moment. “Here he comes now.

  “Mr. Dwight,” she called to the man.

  A tall, lanky man about Anna’s age came down from the loft. He was very handsome, reminding her of the American movie star Sam Elliot. Incongruously, he was carrying two ladies’ dresses.

  “Mr. Dwight, this is Mr. Jake’s mother!”

  “Very nice to meet you. I’m Dwight Carver.” He pronounced it ‘Cav-ah’. Dwight had a broad smile, with straight, white teeth. Not something you found very often in the West.

  “Anna Roberts. Nice to meet you as well. Does my son really work for you?”

  “Well, my foreman is named Jake Carlton and his mother is named Anna, but her name is Carlton, not Roberts. And I thought his family was living in Pennsylvania.”

  “We had to relocate, and I had to change my name due to an unfortunate misunderstanding with a slave hunter. I thought by coming west we could find Jake.”

  “We?” Dwight asked.

  “This is Fu Ming, my housemaid. My younger son Paul and his wife Miriam are here too. We have a farm out on California Road.”

  “My Jake has a brother named Paul. I think we’ve got a match.”

  “Can you take him a letter for me, Mr. Carver?”

  “Please call me Dwight. I’d be happy to deliver a letter for you. And I’ll make sure Jake is on the next supply run here as well.”

  “Vielen Dank.” Anna then asked Ruby if the store sold paper and envelopes, and the clerk happily showed her where to find them. She gave Fu Ming a list of things she had intended to buy at their usual dry goods store on the way home, then asked to borrow a pen to write her letter. She’d written about ten sentences when it struck her that she was using a ballpoint pen. Shocked, she looked up and scanned the shelves behind the counter. They were filled with kitchen implements, everything from carving knives to rolling pins. Everything was of exceptional quality.

  Anna’s stomach knotted. “Ruby, where does Mrs. Riley buy her stock?”

  “She buys most of our goods off boats from Kansas City and Saint Louis, but two big wagons come from back East every month, too,” Ruby answered.

  “Where back East?” Anna asked.

  “You’d have to talk to Mrs. Riley,” Ruby replied. “I don’t know nothing about that.”

  “Okay, I will. Danke.” Anna finished her letter to Jake and went looking for Dwight Carver. Fu Ming found her first.

  “Mrs. Anna, you come see.” The girl was highly agitated, so Anna didn’t correct her English. Fu Ming led her up to the loft. Against the side wall there was an enclosed office, with windows looking out over the sales floor. Fu Ming pointed to two pictures on the far wall of the office.

  “He bad man!”

  Anna looked closely at the pictures. There was a strong family resemblance between the two men. One of them was unmistakably the rapist, Archie. A chill ran down her spine, but then she noticed the black ribbons running across both pictures. He’s dead. Good riddance. She also noticed a number of darts sticking out of Archie’s face. Apparently he wasn’t mourned.

  Anna explained the significance of the ribbons to Fu Ming, who was visibly relieved, then resumed her hunt for Dwight. She found him at the counter, paying for the two dresses.

  “Miss Jennifer will look mighty fine in these,” Ruby said just as Anna walked up.

  “My daughtah, Jenny,” Dwight explained. Anna guessed Dwight was from somewhere in New England, from the way he pronounced some words ending in “er” as if they ended in “a”.

  “I think Mr. Jake is sweet on her,” Ruby added. “You two could be related soon,” she added with a wink.

  “Not quite the relationship I had in mind,” Dwight said with a twinkle in his eye. “Have you got the letter for Jake?”

  “Here you go.” Anna handed him the letter and stole a look at the dresses. For 19th Century stitching, they weren’t badly done, but she could do so much better with the Singer. Perhaps there was an opportunity here.

  “Well, I’ve got business in town,” Dwight said. “Maybe I’ll see you ladies again before I leave.”

  He turned and walked towards the door. Anna was admiring his butt when she noticed his holstered gun. She knew that gun. Mike carried one when they first met in Bamberg, Germany. It was a U.S. Army issue M1911 .45 caliber pistol. 1911 denoted the first year of issue. Anna could well believe that the Republic had begun exporting more of their manufactured goods for sale, and that Mrs. Riley had somehow secured an import agreement with them. But the Republic had famously refused to sell any of its military technology to the outside world. Yet there was no question in her mind that Dwight’s pistol had come from the Republic. Which meant Dwight was ISRM. What has Jake gotten himself into?

  30 - JENNIFER

  Happy Valley Ranch, Nebraska Territory, USA, Monday, December 24, 1855

  Jennifer sighed. She watched Jake through the window of her father’s cabin as he walked back to his own. Another lost opportunity.

  “Don’t worry, honey. He likes you well enough.” Dwight smiled at her over the brim of his coffee mug. “He’ll make his move soon.”

  “Well, he’s taking his own sweet time about it,” she groused. “I may have to make the first move.”

  “Remember Jake didn’t grow up in the Republic,” Dwight said. “He grew up with contemporary American girls, who most definitely don’t behave like girls in the Republic. You don’t want to scare him off.

  “Besides, one of the things I like most about him is his old world manners,” he continued. “Just give it a little time.”

 
; That was all well and good for an old goat like her Dad, but she was a young woman in the prime of her life. She hadn’t been laid since her breakup with that asshole Steve Brown, almost four months ago. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you asking Jake about his Mom, either. Or that you haven’t mentioned Susan Riley since you met Anna.

  Jake had a high quality photograph of himself, his brother Paul, and his mother, taken at Jake’s graduation from the military academy in Pennsylvania. Anna was certainly a beautiful woman, so she didn’t begrudge her father’s interest. But at this rate, her dad would hook up with a member of the Carlton family before she did.

  * * *

  Happy Valley Ranch, Nebraska Territory, USA, 12:01 p.m., Tuesday, January 1, 1856

  “Harrumph.” Jennifer reluctantly broke her Happy New Year kiss with Jake at the sound of her father clearing his throat. She turned and gave Dwight a chaste peck on the cheek.

  “Happy New Year, Dad.”

  “Happy New Year, Dwight,” Jake chimed in, blushing furiously.

  “Happy New Year to both of you as well,” Dwight replied above the din in the room. They were in the newly constructed Happy Valley Ranch dining hall, which was presently filled with revelers. Roger Volant was trying to play Auld Lang Syne on his fiddle, with unfortunate results.

  “May I have this dance?” Jake asked, then led her out onto the makeshift dance floor just as Roger started playing The Rattlin' Bog.

  Finally, Jennifer thought. I was beginning to think he wasn’t actually interested. “I’d love too,” she replied aloud.

  They joined five other couples executing the Virginia Reel, the most popular dance in America at the time. Clasping hands and linking arms were as intimate as it got, not exactly what she had in mind. Still it was fun.

  “Roger, how about something a little more modern?” she asked when the dance concluded.

  “What’s your pleasure, m’lady?” Roger replied.