Authors: Janelle Taylor
To stall Clay’s attack while he attempted to think of a way to rescue them, Joe scoffed, “Don’t tell me the famous Sky Warrior, ex-Cheyenne war chief, is working for Zeke Randall and Snake-Man.”
“I’m not,” Clay replied in a cold tone, “but you probably are.” He glanced at the frightened woman and said, “I told you I wasn’t the vision warrior, but I guess I am. He surely isn’t. I have to kill him.”
“Do not do this, Sky Warrior,” she pleaded.
“He has you and your people fooled, Morning Star. He isn’t Tanner Gaston; I’ve met Stede and his son. This man isn’t him.”
Joe exhaled in relief. “That’s all? You know I’m not Tanner?”
Clay ignored the man’s question to ask, “Did you know the truth, Morning Star? You hesitated over his name like you weren’t used to calling him Tanner. I know love can blind you, but don’t let this liar trick you into betraying yourself and your people.”
“Tanner was my best friend, Clay,” Joe hurried to explain, “I came to this territory with him and his father. He was murdered at Pierre by the gang I’m after. We were scouting for Stede and Tom Fitzpatrick, the Indian agent at Fort Laramie, when Tanner overheard something they didn’t want him to. One of the men killed him. He gave me a clue before he died. I was tracking Zeke when I met Morning Star, but she’s probably already told you that part of our story. When I learned she was Tanner’s cousin, I told her everything. Of course the Red Hearts didn’t trust a white stranger and things were going
badly for me. I had to use Tanner’s name to win Sun Cloud’s confidence and help, and to save my hide. Morning Star knows the whole truth, and she agreed it was necessary to keep my identity a secret. They’ve let her travel with me as a translator and guide because they believe we’re blood kin and nothing physical can happen between us. As for that sacred vision I matched, I don’t know about mystical things. All I know is it seemed to be a prophecy coming true and it won them over.”
He extended his hand again, this time in an offer of friendship. “I’m Joe, Joseph Lawrence, Junior, from Virginia. My family owns a shipping firm like Stede’s. That’s how we met and became friends. I’ve been honest with Sun Cloud about everything else. How do you know Stede and Tanner?”
Clay studied Joe a minute, holstered his weapon, and accepted the man’s amiable offer and explanation. “I was fifteen when Gray Eagle’s half brother returned home to make peace. I rode with my father’s warriors when the Cheyenne helped retaliate after their ambush. When I was banished, I remembered how Powchutu had survived in the white world. I figured, with my looks, I could, too. My father had told me many things about Bright Arrow’s uncle. Windrider was best friends with Gray Eagle’s oldest son, so he knew many stories about Gray Eagle’s bloodline. When I left this territory, I worked many jobs and places. Three years ago, I worked for Stede Gaston in New Orleans. I met his son twice.”
Joe was curious, not suspicious, when he asked, “Stede and Tanner have never mentioned you to me. Why not?”
“I never told them who I was. I was still denying my Indian blood, and I wasn’t sure how much they knew about Powchutu’s history. From what Morning Star’s explained, they pretty much know it all.”
“You guessed the truth,” she ventured, “when they told you Sky Warrior was Tanner Gaston. You knew he did not have sun hair and blue eyes. To slay him is why you rode to meet him.”
“That’s true,” Clay admitted with his wry grin. “I’m glad you’re an honest man, Joe. I would have hated to kill the man Morning Star loves, and I would have hated to tell the Red
Hearts how they’d been deceived. I was also worried about exposing you and taking your rank in the sacred vision. It’s been a long time since I was war chief.”
“You’re mighty handy with a gun,” Joe remarked with a grin. “Thank goodness you listen before you gun down a man.”
“I’ve had to be good with guns and fists over the years moving around so much. Some men are determined to be dangerous.”
“You planning to stay here after this trouble is cleared up?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ve missed my family, people, and the way I was raised. I guess my Indian blood’s the strongest. We’d better get back to camp before a search party comes looking for us.”
They rode into camp as dusk approached. Sun Cloud and Singing Wind came to meet them, both looking worried about their daughter’s lengthy absence. The chief and his wife greeted “Tanner” and queried his success.
Joe briefly went over his journey alone. Then, Sun Cloud called for a council meeting of the Big Bellies and any warriors available.
As soon as everyone had eaten, the Red Hearts gathered to hear Joe’s words. The meeting was interrupted by a late-arriving Knife-Slayer and Night Stalker. The shaman’s son challenged Joe’s rank once more and demanded Joe and Clay battle to the death to decide which one was the true Sky Warrior. Most Indians were dismayed by the man’s wicked behavior.
Joe and Clay refused to fight and insisted on working together on the mission. The chief and council agreed that was wise.
Joe handed Sun Cloud two flags from Jim—white truce and striped American—to fly over the camp to ward off Crow and white attacks until the trouble ended and peace ruled the territory.
“We are not weaklings who need enemy cloth to protect us!
We are warriors!” Knife Slayer proclaimed. “We will battle and slay any man who attacks us!”
“A good and wise warrior knows when to fight, when to retreat, and when to compromise, Knife-Slayer,” Clay told him.
“Your mind has been captured by whites!” the angry man accused.
“Your mind and heart live in the past,” Clay retorted. “It is a new time. To survive, you must forget old days and make peace. If you care little for your life and safety, think of those of your people.”
Hawk Eyes caught Knife-Slayer’s arm and pulled him back to his sitting mat. “Forgive my son,” he said. “His blood burns hot to punish those who threaten us. It is hard for a warrior to sit while others ride against his foes. Is there not a task he can do for his people?”
Joe leapt at the chance to appease the medicine man and his son. “Yes, Shaman, there is an important and daring task for Knife-Slayer, if he wants it. He can ride with Running Badger to the camps of Red Cloud and Spotted Tail to tell them all we have learned.”
“How is that important and daring?” the warrior scoffed.
“The Army, Crow, and evil men are searching for me and Morning Star in that area. You’ll have to use great prowess to sneak by them to visit and then to return. I know you’re skilled at tracking and raiding. Are you also skilled at crossing open land without being seen and captured?”
Knife-Slayer took the challenge. “I will go.”
“Why do you send Running Badger, not me?” Night Stalker asked. “Do you not trust us together?”
“The son of the chief is needed here, Night Stalker. If your father is slain or injured, you must lead your people and defend them.”
Morning Star grasped Joe’s ruses to keep the two warriors separated. She hoped the men would be too busy to get into trouble while the matter was being settled. The third—her opponent in one of the contests—was an excellent choice to accompany and control the headstrong Knife-Slayer. Clay comprehended the ruse, too, and was impressed by
Joe’s wits. He looked forward to getting to know Joseph Lawrence better.
Joe, Morning Star, and Clay departed with the cattle at dawn. They followed the White River toward Fort Tabor at a good pace. They used all of the daylight hours, then camped at dusk. But at night, the new moon offered no help with security and the three took shifts doing guard duty, allowing each more sleep and providing all with protection.
As they traveled, the three became close friends. Morning Star was taught more about the white world, her next challenge. She enjoyed the easy rapport and Clay’s lessons. She thought he was an excellent choice as Joe’s best friend, though no one could replace Tanner. She was happy that Sky Warrior agreed that she and Joe were perfect for each other, but he continued to warn them of serious obstacles they would confront soon.
Seven days later, they made their last camp of this trek, a third of a day’s travel, with the herd from the fort.
Before darkness shadowed the land, Joe left them to fetch Jim’s latest message. He was delighted to find a letter from home in the hiding spot, as he had told his mother in May to contact him through the officer. As instructed, she had addressed it to Lucas Reardon, his nephew’s name, for secrecy and protection.
Joe thought that his family might not have received his mid-June letter yet, and surely not the one he had written in early July. Nor had there been enough time for a response to either one to reach him. Joe recalled he had related news in June about meeting Morning Star and her people and told a little about the work he planned in this area. Two weeks ago, he had revealed his love for the woman and his proposal to her. He knew his parents would be surprised by this, and would realize the task before all of them would not be an easy one. Yet he was certain they would be happy about his impending marriage and the thought of having grandchildren
by their only son to carry on the family name. He wished he could have told them about his love in person, but he didn’t want to arrive home with a fiancée about whom they had heard nothing.
Joe ripped open the letter from his mother. He knew he must hurry, but he wanted to read it in private. He covered the business, political, and social news, grinning at the way Annabelle Lawrence related some of it. His mother always tried to find something good or amusing in every situation. She possessed a special knack for lightening burdens, lessening tension, and getting to the truth of a matter.
Joe chuckled at humorous remarks about his nephew’s recent antics. She said everyone was doing fine and missed him. She was praying for his safe return by Christmas. He halted a moment as he caught a change of tone in the letter that caused love and a smidgen of homesickness to swell in his chest and constrict his throat. He had been gone almost a year, but it suddenly seemed longer. He loved and missed his parents, and his sister and her family. He was eager for them to meet Morning Star, and for her to meet them. He was positive all of them would get along splendidly. Such thoughts called the Indian beauty to mind, and he galloped back to her.
Morning Star had their meal ready when Joe returned. The steers grazed near the water, as did the horses. Clay was standing lookout. As soon as his mount was unsaddled and tended, Joe approached the fire. They ate, then went over Jim’s news.
Joe summarized the information as he read Jim’s words. “Says Stede and Tom are checking on Orin McMichael, Simon Adams, and Harvey Meade. They’ve sent men to question the local authorities. I hadn’t thought of suggesting that kind of investigation; it could be helpful,” Joe commented, then went back to reading. “Jim’s happy about that last message I left two weeks ago telling him about Red Cloud, Spotted Tail, and Two-Bulls’ agreement for truce. He’s upset that Black Moon and Talking Wolf have had illegal dealings with Zeke. Says he won’t investigate that part yet and risk endangering us. He doesn’t want the Crow coming after us, too.
Says he hasn’t seen Zeke since his last message. He’s visited Simon and Harvey, but nothing new there. He is keeping a tight eye on Sergeant Bartholomew Carnes. He’s real pleased with the evidence I left for him and with our destruction of those weapons and whiskey. What’s this?” Joe murmured, rereading the last few lines.
“Damn,” he muttered. “It says Stede warned us that Corporal George Hollis shot a soldier and fled when he was questioned about being here. Says for us to be on alert for the deserter. They chased him northwest, but he got away. Stede and Tom think he’ll make his way here to his boss.”
“At least we know he’s guilty,” Clay surmised for all three. “If we could get our hands on him, we could
persuade
him to talk.”
“Or get our grips on Zeke or Farley. We know they’re in on this mess. We can’t beat information out of Simon or Bart since we haven’t fully connected them to the case.” He related Jim’s warnings concerning the necessity of acting within the legal framework.
“Tell me, Joe, if there are as many attacks and they’re as bad as this Jim says, why isn’t the Army over here doing more to check them out? With Red Heart and Oglala clues left at the scenes, why haven’t white men banded together and retaliated? How is this Jim keeping the homesteaders and his soldiers under control?”
“I don’t doubt the raids, Clay, but nobody can prove who did them. Even if they’re tempted, I don’t think there are enough men to mount an attack on a strong Indian camp. As for the Army, besides hanging back to let us work on this trouble, they don’t usually intrude on Indian conflicts with each other unless it gets big and nasty. From the way it looks, those boys at Fort Tabor are happy not to ride out and challenge the mighty Lakotas. If it’s Jim you don’t trust, see what you think about him when you two meet. You’ll need to return that evidence from the payroll massacre that I borrowed, explain again how it was faked. Give him Knife-Slayer’s scanty description of Snake-Man, be sure to tell him what you learned in St. Louis, and let him know you’re joining us. The return of the cattle should convince
any hotheads there the Red Hearts don’t want any trouble.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Morning Star and I will ride back to Bear Butte and see if we can pick up Zeke’s trail. With luck, he’s so mad that he’ll head straight for his boss and leave us clear tracks to follow. While we’re gone, you nose around those posts. If you see any of our suspects, watch them closely. We should be back near Pierre in…” He calculated the distance and timing. “Ten to twelve days. Meet us two miles upriver and two miles westward.”
The couple and Clay Thorne parted at dawn. The half-breed herded the steers toward the fort and to meet with Captain Thomas. Morning Star and Joe headed northwest toward the site of their last victory.
Clay would reach his destination by noon. Morning Star and Joe would reach theirs after four days of long and hard riding across relatively flat prairieland.