Agnes and the Renegade (Men of Defiance) (33 page)

Chayton frowned. “How can you give me land that already belongs to my people?”

“It no longer belongs to your people. My government bought it from them. I bought it from my government.
Our
government, Chayton. I’m giving it to you for a wedding present.”

Chayton sighed and propped himself up against the same fence. This made him sick in his stomach. He owned the land because this paper said it was so, instead of owning it because his people had been stewards of the land for time beyond time. Instead of owning it because his people had defended it from their enemies for generations. Instead of owning it because it was etched into his soul, he owned it because the paper said so. “Thank you.”

“It’s a total of five thousand acres. I wish I could have given you more.”

“It is an unexpected and generous gift.” Chayton set a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I thank you for it.” They walked together in silence back to Jace’s house. Chayton’s heart was heavy. They paused at the gate. “You are a true brother to me, Logan.”

Logan smiled. “Yes, I am. And I always will be.” He opened the gate. Skylar saw them approaching the house. Chayton heard her announce his return. He sent Logan a questioning look. His friend only shrugged and smiled.

Skylar came to the open door and took his hand. “Hurry,
Até
!” The house smelled of coffee and something sweet, like the pie Agkhee had made him. Sarah stepped out of Jace’s parlor, blocking his access to the room. Leah was there with Jace. He frowned and looked at Sarah.

“Chayton, you know that we love you very much,” she said.

He nodded, watching her warily.
 

“You remember that Logan spent many years trading with your people. Some of his favorite pieces were the ones Laughs-Like-Water created. When she passed, Logan never sold or traded the items she made. We’ve saved them for Skylar. And for you.”

“I do not understand, Sarah.”

Skylar took his hand. “Come with me,
Até
.” Sarah, Jace, Leah, and their kids all made way for him to enter. There, spread across the sofa, chairs, and tables were the moccasins, leggings, breastplates, medicine bags, warshirts, dresses, cuffs, sheaths, pouches and so much more that had comprised Logan’s last trade with Chayton’s wife.
 

Chayton couldn’t restrain his reaction to the sight of all of her hard work. He could hear his wife singing and hear her praying over the pieces as she wove their energies into them. The trade the year she died had been large, for she’d had the help of several apprentices through the winter, maidens who had died with her that day Landry and his men leveled Chayton’s village.
 

He looked over at Logan and Sarah. Words failed him.
 

Sarah took up one of the warshirts with its extravagant beadwork. “I know that your grandmother has ordered a special suit for you for the wedding, but I thought perhaps you might prefer to wear this. We know your story, Chayton. I think of this as Laughs-Like-Water giving you into your new life, your new marriage to Aggie.”

Chayton took the shirt from her. He sat down hard in the chair where it had been. Lifting the shirt to his face, he drew a deep breath and, in his heart, thanked Laughs-Like-Water for her gift.
 

Skylar hugged him. “I didn’t know,
Até
, that Sarah-
m'amá
and Logan-
p'apá
had these. My mother was very skilled.”

Chayton smiled and reached a hand out to stroke her hair. He nodded, then looked up at Sarah and Logan. “Thank you.” He gazed in wonder at the large collection they’d kept of her work. “Would it be too much to ask for a couple of pieces for Agkhee?”

“These are yours, Chayton,” Sarah told him. “And Skylar’s. Do with them what you will.”

“I would like to give her a pair of moccasins and a medicine bag.”

“I will help you pick them out,
Até
. We will give her the prettiest ones.” Skylar brought him the only pair of moccasins that had been made from white deerskin. The beadwork was done in a design that looked like ribbons of lavender, blue, and red. He remembered camping near a source of the white clay Laughs-Like-Water used to treat several skins that spring, giving them their extraordinary color. These moccasins went partway up the calf and were topped with long, finely cut fringes.

“Yes. These are the right ones for Agkhee. You have chosen well. I will select her medicine bag.” He looked at several that were in the collection, choosing one that had a hawk done in red, yellow, and black beads and was surrounded by a background of white beads. He held the bag for a moment, catching the energy that his wife had woven into the piece. He wondered if she’d known when she made it that one day Chayton would find a way to live without her. Skylar smiled up at him. He hugged her, then looked at the friends around them.
 

“Thank you.”

* * *

Aggie had spent the last hour hiding behind the lace curtains in her room at Maddie’s Boardinghouse, watching her friends enter the church, all of them in lovely dresses and fine suits. Several of Chayton’s grandmother’s friends and business associates had made the journey from Denver and even as far away as Washington, D.C., to attend their wedding. It was rumored the governor of Colorado and his wife were late additions to the guest roster and that the territorial governor of Wyoming had sent an envoy to represent him.

She heard someone walking toward her door. Sarah had said she and Logan would come for her when it was time to go to the church. She looked at herself one last time in the mirror. She and Chayton’s grandmother had spent many hours examining different fashion plates for wedding dresses. All of them had tightly fitted bodices. The one they’d selected and which she now wore had a square-cut neckline and cutaway three-quarter sleeves. It was made of ivory silk in a cream color with swaths of bobbin lace around the neckline, cuffs, and hips. There was an overskirt of silk, then from her knees to the hem, two rows of the bobbin lace frothed down the front of her gown. It was elegant and stunning. Aggie was so glad she could fit into it still without being uncomfortable. It was hard to believe it had only been three weeks since she had met with Chayton and his grandmother in Julian’s home. So much had happened since then.
 

And now the wedding. A knock sounded at her door. She spread her veil out over her bustle, then walked slowly across the room to open the door. It wasn’t Logan standing on the other side. “Chayton!” She quickly ducked behind the cracked door. “You can’t see me yet!”

“Why not?”

“Because the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before she walks down the aisle.” She didn’t tell him it was bad luck. He was superstitious enough to call off the wedding until another day.
 

“Agkhee, I have seen you many times. And you are already my wife. Let me in. Please.”

She opened the door. He was not wearing the handsome gray suit Mrs. Burkholder had selected for him. Instead, he wore a gorgeous ensemble of Native attire. His tunic was elaborately embroidered with patterned beads from the front to the back, and down both sleeves. The leggings bore a wide, complementary beaded panel. His moccasins matched his leggings. He wore his medicine bag, bear claw necklace, and choker. He was magnificent.
 

“Chayton, why aren’t you dressed? What’s happening?”

“I am dressed. I will be wearing this for the ceremony.”

“Oh, no! Your grandmother will be furious.”

“I am a man of two cultures. She must learn to embrace both, as I also must learn.” He handed her a pair of soft white moccasins. The beadwork that adorned them looped and rolled like fine ribbons. “My first wife made these, Agkhee, for us. Would you please wear these?”

Aggie’s eyes welled up. She took the moccasins from him and moved deeper into the room. “What do you mean she made these for us? How is that possible?”

“They were in the last set of items Logan received in trade with her. Remember I told you she wove energy into her pieces? Yours were the only pair of white moccasins she made. And there was no other warshirt as fine as this one in the group. I think she knew we would find each other. I feel that she made these for us and that she will be with us in spirit today.”

“They are so beautiful. I will happily wear them, but I can’t bend down to put them on. This dress is too stiff.”

He led her to a seat. “I will help you.” He knelt before her and removed the high-heeled ivory satin shoes his grandmother had selected for her ensemble, then slipped the soft leather moccasins on her feet and tied the laces.

She stood up to test them out. “Oh, these are like slippers. I love them.”

He looked up at her. “There is one other thing.” She sat back down. He drew a small pouch from his waistband. “This is your own medicine bag. Usually, we would have a ceremony so that it could be blessed. I thought today’s ceremony might serve that purpose.”

Aggie took the little pouch. It was elegantly beaded and bore a raptor with spread wings. She stroked the image. “It’s a hawk. Like you.”

“You must give some thought to what the source of your medicine is, then put in this pouch something that represents that medicine. It will be an energy source for you. It will guide and protect you. It doesn’t have to be done today.”

She touched his short hair. His grandmother had demanded he have it properly trimmed, but he had insisted the barber leave it long. It brushed the collars of his new cotton shirts. “Chayton, you are my medicine. You are what keeps me strong and guides me.”

He took out his knife and cut a slim lock of his hair. “Then put this in there.”

She went to the dresser to find a small ribbon. She cut a narrow strip of it and used that to bind his lock of hair. When she finished, he lifted the bag over her head and fitted it under the lace that followed the square cut of her bodice top, tucking it between her breasts.
 

“You must wear this all the days of your life, Agkhee. Then you will never be without me.”

She pressed her hand to the little bag, hidden inside her cleavage. “I will. I love you, Chayton.”

He lifted her chin and touched a kiss to her mouth. “I love you, my Turtle Who Walks Out Of Her Shell.”

Aggie jumped when a knock sounded on her door. Sarah’s voice called through the door, “Are you ready, Aggie? It’s time!” She opened the door and popped her head in. “Chayton!” She pushed the door fully open. “You can’t be in here! It’s—”

Aggie grabbed Chayton’s arm and drew him to the door, interrupting Sarah before she could finish that thought. “He was just leaving!”
 

He turned and walked backward the last few steps, grinning at Aggie. “In a few minutes you will be my wife in my world and in yours.”

“Yes. Yes. If your grandmother doesn’t kill you for wearing that outfit.”

His smile widened. “She will not. I would not be a man if I let a little old woman kill me.” He stepped over the threshold into the hall, then looked as if he might come back in. Logan blocked him with an arm over the doorjamb.
 

“Go, Chayton,” his friend ordered.

Sarah held two bouquets. Both had been made in a Denver greenhouse and sent up here yesterday, as were dozens of other bouquets that decorated the church and the tables in the reception tent that had been put up in the field next to the church. Such extravagances the town had never seen.

Sarah handed the bouquets to Logan, then adjusted Aggie’s long veil that draped down over her bustle. The original design had called for a train that gave the back of the dress the elegant effect of a waterfall of silk and lace. But given the realities of where they were being married, and that much of the day would be spent outside in a tent set over a dirt field, Mrs. Burkholder and the seamstress decided to leave the train off and to shorten the dress up to her ankles.
 

Sarah handed her her bouquet of lilies, baby’s breath, and white roses. “It’s beautiful.” She felt like a true princess. The dress and the flowers were stunning; she wished she could spend the day doing a portrait of her and Chayton rather than entertaining all the important people his grandmother had invited to their special day. She sent a panicked look to Sarah.

Sarah caught her arm. “You’re beautiful, Aggie. I can see the artist’s madness crowding your eyes, but there is no time now to stop and do a sketch. Tomorrow, we can put you back in this dress, then you can sketch and paint to your heart’s content.”

Logan was leaning against the doorjamb. He smiled at her. “I dunno. I’d rather a painting than a party, any day.”

“Logan Taggert, you’re Chayton’s best man. Your job is to help this day go off without a hitch.”

He straightened, still grinning. “Yes, ma’am.” He handed Sarah her small bouquet of irises and daisies, then extended his arm to Aggie. “Shall we go?”

They went downstairs and into Maddie’s kitchen at the boardinghouse, then crossed the street and followed Chayton into the church. There was a sudden shift from joyful chatter to silence to a collective gasp. Aggie saw Chayton wink at Skylar, who waited in the anteroom with her basket of flowers. He started down the short central aisle. His grandmother was in the front row. She sent a look his way and realized what their guests were reacting to. She stood and faced him, blocking his passage the last few steps to the dais.
 

“What is the meaning of this?” she hissed. In the silence of the church, her voice carried.

Chayton continued until he’d moved a step past her. He turned to address her—and the entire gathering of her people. “I am
Lakȟóta
. And I am your daughter’s son, Grandmother. These two facts will never change. I ask you to accept both truths.”

“You said you would take your place as my heir.” She lifted her cane and swooped it through the air, indicating to his traditional garb. “This is an abomination. On such an important day.”

“Aw, hell,” Logan groaned to Aggie under his breath. “Should have known Chayton would treat this as a council meeting.”

“What do you mean?” Aggie whispered as she looked at him with worried eyes.