Authors: Rosanne Bittner
“They study the earth, dig into it to figure out how it was formed. Sometimes they find the bones of animals, creatures that died hundreds, thousands of years ago. At other times they have discovered whole cities where people once dwelled before they all died out.”
Their eyes held on that comment. Is that what would happen to the Indian one day?
“Zeke owns some land of his own northwest of Denver, near the mountains,” Hawk said, not wanting to dwell on the thought. “The girl he married, her father does not know about the marriage. They are not sure what will happen when he finds out.”
“Hmmm. What is it about the Monroe men and white women?”
Hawk laughed lightly. “I have no white woman, nor do I have any interest in them. I have been so busy studying, I have not seen
any
women. And after what happened to Zeke …” He was surprised to realize he suddenly remembered someone, a young girl named Arianne. He wondered what had ever happened to her, remembered how rude he’d been to her that last day he saw her. Poor Arianne. She was only trying to be friendly. “I figured it was best to stay away from white women,” he finished. “There sure aren’t any Indian women back East, and there won’t be many in Denver. Maybe I should stop at the reservations on the way home and find me a woman, huh?”
Wolf’s Blood grinned. “Maybe.”
Sweet Bird came outside then with Little Eagle, and Wolf’s Blood smiled broadly, holding out his arms. Little Eagle went to his father, and the sight warmed Hawk’s heart, although he worried at how swollen his father’s knuckles were. Yes, the disease was beginning to take its toll. He hadn’t asked, suspecting his father did not want to talk about it. For the next few minutes the man played and talked with his son, the affection between them obvious. For all his wildness, Wolf’s Blood was a wonderful father, and from the way he talked about his own father, Hawk did not doubt Zeke Monroe had also been a good father.
How sad that Little Eagle would probably be allowed to know his father for only a few years. Hawk felt it in his bones. The question was, how would Wolf’s Blood die? It wouldn’t be from the arthritis. He would never allow that. And what would happen to Sweet Bird once he was gone? She seemed a devoted wife who truly loved her husband. She sat on the steps now, watching Wolf’s Blood and Little Eagle talk, with love in her
eyes. Hawk loved her for giving his father some love and peace in these lonely years away from his family. She had even given him a new family.
“I miss my Iris,” Wolf’s Blood said, setting down Little Eagle. The boy ran to his mother, then climbed down the steps to chase a butterfly. Wolf’s Blood’s pet, an ageing wolf, got up from where he lay curled next to his master and trotted down the steps after the boy.
“
Sotaju
watches over him. He could tear that little boy apart, but he guards him fiercely. The trouble is, the wolf is getting old, like me.”
“You are not so old, my husband,” Sweet Bird teased. “You sometimes act very young.”
Wolf’s Blood laughed. “You keep me young, woman.”
She looked away bashfully and walked off to chase after Little Eagle.
“She is a good woman,” Wolf’s Blood commented. “She is the granddaughter of Joe Bear Paw, a good friend. She came to me one night, and she never left.”
“I am glad for you, Father.”
Wolf’s Blood nodded, meeting his eyes. “I know that you are.” He sighed. “You tell your sister I am happy for her and that I love her. This Raphael takes good care of her?”
“Yes, Father. He is a very kind man, and he does well with his carpentry work. There is always something to be built in Denver.”
Wolf’s Blood nodded. “I suppose.” He sighed. “I wish I could see my grandsons, and the children you will have someday.”
“Maybe you will.”
Wolf’s Blood leaned back, puffing the pipe again for a moment. “This is a fine pipe you bought me,” he said. Hawk suspected it was his way of changing the subject. Both of them knew the man would never live
to see any children of Hawk’s. The thought brought a fierce pain to Hawk’s chest. “I am glad that you like it.” He met his father’s eyes, saw tears in them.
“How long can you stay, son?”
“As long as you want me to remain.”
Wolf’s Blood smiled sadly, shaking his head. “No. That would be forever, and I know you cannot do that. A week, maybe? I would like that.”
“I can stay two.”
Wolf’s Blood nodded. “Good. Now, tell me more about the university, what it is like there, the things you studied.”
Hawk tried to explain some of what he had learned and how he might use it, but Wolf’s Blood did not really hear it all. He could think only about the fact that he and his own father had had almost no schooling, that they had lived the old way, killed when it was necessary, warred when they must, ridden free on the plains. He would never forget holding the man in his arms when he died, never forget that was the way Zeke had wanted it. Now he faced the same fate. He had only to decide how to end his life honorably.
At least he would go knowing his children had a good life, a magnificent future ahead of them in a new world made for the young. But there was Sweet Bird and his new son. Someone would one day have to take care of them. It seemed only right that it should be Hawk, who was Little Eagle’s brother. There was much to be considered, but for now he would enjoy having his precious firstborn with him for this little time they could have together.
Zeke and Georgeanne ducked behind a stack of logs, Georgeanne covering her ears. The earth exploded, and another stump flew up out of the ground.
“Got her!” Zeke said proudly. “That was one hell of a big stump.” He moved out from behind the logs to inspect the hole that had been left.
Georgeanne followed, always finding this exciting. He had built her the bigger cabin, and she was learning to be quite a good cook, proud of herself for adapting to this new, rather rugged way of life. She didn’t really mind, although at times she longed for the luxuries of running water and a real bathroom. But they would have those things someday, she was sure.
Never able to sit inside and knit or bake, she had helped her husband continue to clear his land, determined to help him realize his dreams. She decided she could always go back to geology or teach. For now she preferred to spend this first year of their marriage together, no matter what hardships that brought. She had not met Zeke’s family in Denver yet, but he’d promised they could go there before the summer was over.
“Georgie, come here!” he shouted then, interrupting her thoughts. She walked faster, wondering why he was staring so closely at the roots of the stump they’d just blown. When she herself took in the sight, her mouth fell open.
“My God!” She looked up the side of the mountain where they’d been clearing the stumps, then back down at the stump, which was on the edge of a stream that flowed from a runoff higher up. Something glittered in the dirt around the roots and in the hole the stump had left. She knelt down, taking some dirt in her hand and fingering through it. “Zeke, this is gold!”
He knelt beside her. “I don’t believe it. You sure it isn’t pyrite?”
“I’m a geologist, remember? And I worked for a mining company. I know gold when I see it, even when
it’s in little flakes like this.” She looked up the mountain again. “There has to be a source up there.” She met his eyes. “Maybe on your own property!”
Their eyes held in mutual understanding of what that could mean, but Zeke did not want to get carried away with false hopes. “It’s probably nothing. Supposedly, they checked this out before they sold it to me. The government wouldn’t sell it if they knew it had gold on it.”
She grinned. “Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they were careless. But this
is
gold, and I’m going to try to trace it up the mountain. I know how to do it, Zeke, and I know a man in Fort Collins who will assay this without saying a word to anyone. We have to keep this quiet for the time being until we know what’s up there and what it will take to mine it … if it’s even ours to mine.”
Zeke blinked in disbelief. He fingered some of the dirt. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered. “Gold.” He told himself to remain calm. This might not mean a thing.
“This is hard, Father.” Hawk reluctantly finished tying his carpetbag onto his horse. “I hate leaving you like this. Maybe I should just stay here.”
Wolf’s Blood touched his arm. “The best thing you can do is go to Denver. Do not let all these years of learning and all the money my brother spent helping you be for nothing. Someday you will use your education to help our people, but first there will be more learning for you. You must practice what you have learned until you are the best you can be.”
Hawk looked down at the hand on his arm, the distorted knuckles. “Father, you might be needing me.”
Wolf’s Blood shook his head. “When that time comes, you will know it. And I will come to you, not you to me.”
“But how? You’re a wanted man in the States.”
“I will find a way. I have a new family who will need help. When a man is looking out for his family, he does whatever must be done and takes whatever risks that requires. For now you go do what you must do, and I will stay here and enjoy my wife and child as long as possible. Perhaps one day I will ask you to look out for them. Would you do this?”
“You know I would, Father.”
Wolf’s Blood felt a stab of guilt, thinking how much better suited Sweet Bird was for a younger, healthier
man like Hawk than for someone of his age who was in too much pain some of the time to even cut enough wood for her. Still, it did not seem to matter to her, and he loved her all the more for it. Maybe someday, when he was gone …
He would not bring up such a thing to his son now. Hawk would not understand. “Take my love to Iris and embrace her for me,” he told Hawk. “And do not go thinking you will never see me again. I will not leave this world without seeing my oldest son and my daughter once more. This is a promise.”
Hawk knew the sting of tears wanting to come. He embraced his father, thinking how well Wolf’s Blood fit the world that once was, but how out of place he was in this time. He could never survive in a place like Denver. “I don’t ever want your wife or Little Eagle—or any other children you might have—to stay here and maybe starve to death, Father. If for some reason you can’t find a way to come to us, at least send your family to Jason at the Cheyenne reservation. Promise me you’ll do that.”
“You know that I will, son. I will never let my new family suffer.”
Hawk pulled away, quickly wiping at tears. “I’m afraid for you, Father. I hate seeing you in pain.”
“Do not fret. I told you that when the time is right I will come to you. We will have important decisions to make then, but I will not burden you with them now. Go to Denver and show the white men what a Harvard-educated Cheyenne Indian can do!”
Hawk grinned through his tears, embracing the man once more. “I will, Father.” He turned to Sweet Bird, who stood nearby with Little Eagle. She handed Hawk a cloth sack closed with a string. “Fry bread. I put a lot of sugar on it.”
Hawk took it gratefully. “You make the best fry bread
I’ve ever tasted. Grandma Abbie will be jealous when I tell her.”
Sweet Bird smiled. “I hope to one day meet Wolf’s Blood’s mother.”
Hawk glanced at Wolf’s Blood. “You probably will, someday.” He reached out and embraced Sweet Bird for a quick moment. “Thank you for loving and caring for my father.” He turned and picked up Little Eagle, telling him to be a good boy for his mother.
The child wrapped chubby arms around Hawk. “Love you, Hawk,” he said with innocent sincerity.
Hawk felt a tug at his heart. “I love you, too, little brother. I will see you again.”
He handed the child to his mother and tied the sack of fry bread onto his horse, then looked at his father once more, always feeling the presence of a certain power he could not name when they were together.
It is my own father, Zeke, that you feel
. Wolf’s Blood had told him that once when he’d mentioned it. Perhaps it was. “Good-bye, Father.”
He was afraid that if he hugged the man again, he would not be able to leave, so he quickly mounted his horse.
“Good-bye, my son.
Maheo
be with you and keep the wind at your back.”
Hawk nodded. “I wish the same for you.” He turned the horse and rode away from the little cabin, his heart aching so much it caused him physical pain.
Wolf’s Blood turned to Sweet Bird. “He is a fine young man, is he not?” He smiled inwardly at the way she was watching his son.
“Yes, he is,” she answered.
“I told you, I know what I am doing, Zeke Brown,” Georgeanne repeated for what seemed the hundredth
time. She hacked away at the cavelike hole Zeke had blasted out of the side of the mountain with dynamite. For weeks they had dug and picked and dynamited their way farther into the mountain, Zeke using brute strength to haul out rocks and dirt, and to shore up their cave with timbers. Nearly every day they argued over whether all this work was worth the effort, and Zeke worried about her doing too much. “It can take one heck of a long time to get rich just panning for the flakes,” she added. “The real money lies in finding where those flakes are washing down from.” Sweat stained her cotton shirt, and her shoes were soaked. She wore the same shoes every day, so they never had time to dry out.
They had traced the creek up the mountain to the place where it was fed by a runoff from a cluster of rocks on the side of the mountain. That was where Georgeanne had asked Zeke to start his blasting. Ever since then they had worked with their feet in water or mud, as the runoff from somewhere even deeper in the mountain kept the floor of the cave wet.
“When you see light through a crack in boards,” she said, yanking out her pickaxe, “you know the source is something much bigger—the sun. We’re going to find
our
light source, and it will be just as big and bright and yellow as the sun!” She smiled, facing him.
A weary Zeke hunched his shoulder to wipe at his perspiration with a shirtsleeve. “Georgie, we’ve been at this for weeks. I haven’t been blasting any more stumps or tending my ranch like I should. Everything is going to hell, and I’m about out of money.”
She turned and hacked away at more soft stone. “Money is the least of our problems. We can use my trust money. I can take a couple of days off, go to Fort
Collins and have the bank there wire my bank in Denver. We’ll be fine.”
“I don’t
want
to use your money.”
Georgeanne sighed in exasperation and dropped her pickaxe again. “Zeke, under normal circumstances, I would understand. But this is, well, this is extraordinary! Just think what it could mean to us if we find a vein of gold on your property! It would be the answer to everything. You would be a rich man in your own right. You keep saying you wish you could make a better life for me. It doesn’t matter that much to me, Zeke, but just think of it! You, Zeke Brown, a wealthy mine owner! If we can find the gold, we can use my money to hire a mining company to dig it up the right way, and you, my darling husband, can have as big a ranch as you want. We could go together to my father and not only tell him we’re married, but that we could buy him out if we wanted. Wouldn’t
that
be a sweet revenge!”
Zeke studied her, shaking his head at how she looked, her hair twisted and pinned on top of her head but falling in strands around her dirty face, her clothes dirty and sweat stained. Wealthy and pampered as she’d been, she had not once complained about the simple life they lived here, and she’d worked like a horse helping him dig into this mountain. “I’m worried you’ll make yourself sick.”
“I’m fine.” She stepped closer, sobering. “I hope you understand, Zeke, that the reason I’m so determined to find more gold is for you, not for me. I don’t need a life any better than what we have now, because I have you; but I know what this could mean for you, how right it is that someone like you should strike it rich. You deserve it, and I’m going to help you.”
He folded his hands over the end of his shovel handle and rested his chin upon them. “And what if we
don’t find the mother lode? The source could be clear on the other side of this mountain and might belong to someone else.”
“You have to be more optimistic, my love. If we’re lucky, the apex of any vein of gold we might find will be on your half of this mountain, which means you’ll own the whole vein for as far as it runs, even if some of it is on someone else’s land. That’s the law. If we don’t discover anything”—she shrugged—“then we build a sluice down by the creek and pan as many of the flakes that wash down as we can. We’ll take turns so we can take care of the ranch at the same time. There’s no sense wasting good gold now, is there?”
He chuckled. “Is there such a thing as
bad
gold?”
“Only the kind that turns a man’s head and causes him to forget his roots, makes him all cocky and thinking he’d like to dally with all the fancy women who’d be hanging on his arm.” She shivered when his dark eyes flashed with love and possessiveness.
“Is that what you think would happen to me?”
She sauntered closer. “It better not. But I must say, with your build and that handsome face, if you end up a rich man to boot, women will find you irresistible. You’ll be fighting them off.”
He straightened, shaking his head. “You’re all the woman I’ll ever need. And let’s not forget how you look when you’re all gussied up and strutting fine, let alone the fact that you know all about running in those circles. I don’t. In fact, I don’t
want
to run in those circles. All I’ll ever want is for you to live just as good and fancy as you want, to have everything you need. As for me, I love horses and ranching, love owning my own land. That’s all that matters.”
She looked down at herself. “Speaking of being gussied up, I’m a far cry from a fancy woman today. Now
that I think of it, I haven’t been very fancy for a long time.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t need fancy. I know what’s under all that dirt and those dirty clothes.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re a hell of a woman, Georgeanne Brown. I—”
“Georgeanne!”
They both lost their smiles when they heard her name shouted from somewhere close by.
“Who in the hell is that?”
A chill ran through Georgeanne at recognizing the familiar ring to the booming voice.
“I know you’re here somewhere, Georgeanne Temple! Show yourself!”
Their gazes held in mutual realization, and Georgeanne saw the bitter hatred that began to emerge in her husband’s dark eyes. “My God, it’s your father,” Zeke said. He turned and reached for his rifle, which he always kept with him. There was always the danger of a bear or of wolves in this kind of country, and sometimes jobless men from Denver skulked around looking for money or food to steal.
“Not the rifle!” Georgeanne pleaded. “If he sees you with it, he could use that as an excuse to shoot at you!”
“I’ll kill him before I let him do to me what he did once or before he takes you away from here! He’s on
my
land now!
My
land! I have a right to order anyone off this property when I so choose!” He left her, charging out the cave entrance to see Carson Temple and three other men sitting on horses about twenty yards down the hill.
Georgeanne hurried out behind Zeke, her heart pounding with dread. How on earth had her father found them? Zeke’s own family certainly would not have told him where they were, or that they were married. And no one else who knew of their marriage was
acquainted with her father. She nearly ran to keep up with Zeke, who strode right down to stand in front of the men. It was then she noticed one of them was Robert Higgins.
“You’re trespassing, Temple!” Zeke told the men, holding his rifle in a position to fire.
Carson Temple straightened in his saddle, as though to accent his size. He was dressed in denim pants, a red checkered shirt and a leather vest. In his wide-brimmed hat, he looked rough and rugged, and he was well armed. He looked around. “Trespassing? On your measly two hundred sixty acres of stumps? I’ve already seen that excuse of a house you have, the piles of stumps all over the place. You really expect to make a ranch out of this dump?”
“Father! What are you doing here! You’ve no right to insult my husband’s hard work!”
Temple’s face turned beet red, and he glared at his daughter as he slowly dismounted. “So, it’s true! You
did
marry this half-nigger, half-Indian bastard! I was hoping Robert Higgins was mistaken!”
“Don’t you come one step closer!” Zeke warned, raising his rifle more. “You might have a lot of men with you, but I guarantee that if they start shooting, you’ll go down, Temple, first thing, father-in-law or not!”
Temple sneered. “Father-in-law!” He spat, then shifted his cold blue eyes back to Georgeanne. “Look at you! My beautiful, refined, educated daughter. You’re a mess! You
look
like a poor rancher’s wife! What the hell are you doing up on that mountain!”
“If you want the truth—”
“We’re looking for the source of some water that’s been springing from up there,” Zeke interrupted, as he cast Georgeanne a warning look. “I want to make
sure the creek that runs through my place won’t dry up on me.”
Temple looked at Zeke as though he were garbage. “That creek won’t do much to make anything out of this place,” he warned. “What kind of a ranch can you build on two hundred and sixty acres?”
“We’ll make do,” Zeke answered, still holding the rifle at a warning level.
Temple stepped a little closer in spite of it, giving Zeke another once-over, realizing he was a much bigger man than when he’d been dragged off seven years ago. And he had a more determined look to him, the look of a man who knew what he wanted and meant what he said. Temple usually liked that kind of man. Too bad this one had the wrong blood in him and had dared to marry his daughter behind his back. “You’ll never survive,” he warned Zeke. “And if you figured on using my daughter’s money to build this pitiful homestead into something profitable, forget it! I stopped in Denver on the way here and put a halt to her trust fund. As of a few days ago there
is
no trust fund!”
Georgeanne’s heart sank. She had counted on using that money to help Zeke, to invest in the proper mining equipment and to hire professionals if they found the gold was theirs. “Why can’t you understand that I love Zeke Brown?” she asked her father, tears of anger forming in her eyes. “He’s a man, Father, a good man who works hard and has dreams and is willing to make sacrifices to realize those dreams! I’ve never given a thought to his mixed blood. I don’t
care!
I only know that I love him, and as my father, you should honor that! Even so, if you
had
come here to make amends, I’m not sure I could truly love you again! You
lied
to me! You hit me and dragged me away from the man I loved, and then you lied about not hurting him any
more! I told you before why I left home, and why I never wanted to come back! We have not been a part of each other’s lives for years now, so why don’t you just go back to the ranch and leave us alone!”