Shadow Walker (31 page)

“Finding Running Elk is important. He’s been like a brother to me. I’m worried about him. Besides, a separation from Dawn will help me decide if what I feel for her is love or lust. Wanting her is like a sickness, and it frightens the hell out of me. But I don’t want Dawn to suffer in any way because of my indecision. I want her to have my share of the profits from the mill during my absence.”

“I hope you find what you’re seeking,” Ashley said, turning away. “For the first time in my life I’m disappointed in you.”

“I’m sorry, Ash. Dawn deserves a man whose heart isn’t torn by conflicting emotions. I need to learn where my heart lies before committing myself.”

“Save your apologies for Dawn,” she flung over her shoulder as she stalked away. “Good-bye, Cole.”

There was a catch in Cole’s voice. “Good-bye, Ash.”

A week after Cole left, Dawn packed her few belongings and informed Ashley that she was leaving.

“Where will you go?” Ashley asked. “You’ll always have a home with us. Not because of Cole but because we think of you as family.”

“But I’m not family,” Dawn said with finality. “You know what I am to Cole. I can’t continue to
impose upon you and Tanner. There must be someone in Oregon City willing to give me a job. I have some money. Enough to last until I find work.”

“Cole made arrangements for you to receive his share of the profits from the mill during his absence.”

Dawn stiffened. “I don’t want his money.”

“We all consider you Cole’s wife. He’ll return, mark my words. Cole and I are twins; I feel the same things he feels. He’s confused right now. In time he’ll discover he loves you.”

“I no longer love Cole,” Dawn lied. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Ashley realized there was nothing she could do or say to change Dawn’s mind. In her own way, Dawn was just as stubborn as Cole. “Promise you’ll keep in touch. Tanner and I are here if you need us. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

“Thank you,” Dawn said sincerely. “After Billy died I always intended to make a new life for myself. Were it not for Cole’s interference, I would have. I’ll keep in touch. You’re the closest I’ve ever had to a relative or friend. Until Cole burst into my life I had no one … no one …”

Dawn rode Wally into town the following morning. She inquired about work at the general store first. By the time she’d asked at every store and shop on one side of the street, including two dress shops, a milliner, two feed stores and a hardware store, she was becoming discouraged. Some shop owners had been downright nasty, implying that her mixed blood made her unemployable.

She had no better luck with the shops on the opposite side of the street. Most shop owners looked at her as if she were something dirty. By late afternoon the only businesses Dawn hadn’t visited were the saloons and dance halls.

Dawn’s rumbling stomach told her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so she entered one of the restaurants. She was met at the door by a waitress who looked her up and down and said they didn’t serve Indians. Rather than cause a scene, Dawn left. To appease her hunger, she bought an apple from the grocer and munched on it as she considered her options. By now she had grown desperate. She knew she could always return to the MacTavishes but wasn’t ready yet to admit defeat. She didn’t want to spend her life dependent upon the generosity of others.

The thought of becoming a burden to the MacTavishes drove her to do something she wouldn’t have considered under normal circumstances. She ducked into the nearest saloon and asked for work. Cully Porter, the owner of the Watering Hole, looked Dawn up and down, liked what he saw and hired her on the spot.

“What are my duties, Mr. Porter?” Dawn asked, grateful to have found honest work.

Cully Porter gave Dawn his most affable smile. “Serving my customers according to their needs,” he said with sly innuendo. “Men are drawn to women with pretty faces. Flirt, encourage them to buy drinks, and join them if they ask.”

Dawn blanched. “I don’t drink.”

Cully laughed. “Don’t worry. The girls are
served watered-down drinks. What’s your name, honey?”

“Dawn. Dawn Webster,” she said without thinking. It seemed logical to use Cole’s last name since she couldn’t bring herself to use Billy Cobb’s name. And using her father’s last name was equally repugnant to her.

“Do you have a man, Dawn?”

“A man?” Dawn was immediately leery. “I’m unmarried, if that’s what you mean.” She wasn’t sure she understood his line of questioning.

“You have no protector?” His smile was almost predatory.

She still didn’t understand. “My parents are dead. I’m on my own. I’m grateful for the job. I’ll not disappoint you. Can you tell me where I might rent a room?”

He gave her a sly smile. “I’m sure you won’t disappoint me. As for a room, didn’t I tell you a room comes with the job? My girls find it convenient to live close to their work. In addition to room and board, you’ll be paid a small salary.” His eyes lingered on her breasts. “But I predict you’ll make enough from tips and … overtime to compensate.”

Dawn was too excited about finding a job that included room and board to dwell on the meaning of Cully Porter’s cryptic words.

Cole left the train at Cheyenne. He’d had a long time to think during the lonely trip, and the longer he pondered, the more confused he became concerning Dawn. No other woman, including Morning Mist, made him feel as Dawn did. And he wasn’t sure he liked that. He’d lived with memories of his lost love for so long that discarding them now seemed almost sinful.

After collecting Warrior from the stock car, Cole found the nearest Western Union and sent a telegram to his office. Because of his unsettled future, he had decided to resign his job. He’d already been gone longer than he’d expected, and his employer deserved to know his plans. And honestly, he had no idea when if ever he’d return to his former line of work. He was seriously considering Tanner’s offer to work at the mill upon his return to
Oregon City, if … when he returned. His decision depended solely upon the strength of his feelings for Dawn.

Cole heard some distressing news in Cheyenne. The Sioux had been given no time to celebrate their victory at the Little Big Horn. In July a thousand northern Cheyenne, on their way to join the great Sioux leader Crazy Horse in Powder River country, were beaten back by Colonel Wesley Merritt’s Fifth Cavalry at War Bonnet Creek. The defeated Cheyenne had turned back to the Red Cloud Agency.

On September 6, General Crook attacked a Sioux village near Slim Buttes, forcing the surrender of Chief American Horse. Shortly afterward, weapons and ponies were confiscated from tribes residing at all agencies. The final humiliation came when the Sioux were forced to give up the sacred Black Hills and all hunting rights outside the redefined reservation.

Cole wondered whether Running Elk had found sanctuary in Powder River country or had been forced to return to the crowded Red Cloud Agency. A week of hard riding should put him in Powder River country. Ten days if the weather turned nasty. The thought of Running Elk without weapons with which to hunt and no ponies to ride was disheartening. Indians took great pride in their ponies and hunting skills. Without them they would be reduced to begging the government for sustenance. The government had the Indians exactly where it wanted them, Cole thought bitterly.

The days were growing colder. Cole wakened most mornings to find the frozen ground glazed
with frost. To ward off the biting cold, he wore a full set of buckskins and fur-lined moccasins, tossing a buffalo robe over his shoulders for extra warmth when needed.

The first Indians Cole encountered were a pitiful sight. He spoke with their chief, Crazy Dog, and learned that they were fleeing north to Canada. Cole was saddened to learn that just days before a column led by Colonel Miles had tracked down a defiant Sitting Bull and his Sioux followers at Cedar Creek in Montana Territory. When Sitting Bull refused to return to the reservation, the column attacked. Two thousand Sioux surrendered after a two-day battle, but Sitting Bull and a few followers escaped to Canada. Crazy Dog told Cole that those chiefs who hadn’t been accounted for by the army were heading for Canada, just as he was.

Cole asked about Running Elk and was told that the chief hadn’t taken his people to the reservation, that he was still hiding in Powder River country, or possibly already on his way to Canada. Cole thanked Crazy Dog and continued on his way. He hoped he wouldn’t have to chase Running Elk all the way to Canada, but he would if he had to.

A week after his encounter with Crazy Dog, Cole entered Powder River country. It was late October by his reckoning and the first snow had already fallen. His supplies were dangerously low, and he had to take precious time from his journey to hunt fresh game. Cole still hadn’t found Running Elk when he ran into an army patrol. Cole made up a story about being a trapper, which Lieutenant
Conrad believed. Conrad told Cole that the Army had launched a winter campaign to bring the remaining defiant Indians to heel. His patrol was on the trail of Chief Sitting Bull, one of the greatest warriors of the northern plains, and any other dissidents they might encounter.

The knowledge that the army was hot on Running Elk’s trail spurred Cole on. If he didn’t find Running Elk soon, the army would. Fortunately, Cole had an edge on the army. He knew all the places in Powder River country where Running Elk might hide. Some were so remote and secluded that Cole was certain that only an expert tracker could find them.

Two days later Cole stumbled upon Running Elk’s camp. Despite the near blizzard raging around them, the entire village was a beehive of activity. Preparations were in progress for a long journey, and Cole could only assume they were preparing for a trek to Canada.

Cole was challenged as he rode into the narrow valley nestled between two hills. Once he identified himself, he was allowed passage into the camp. His name was passed from person to person, until it reached Running Elk. The chieftain came out of his lodge to greet him.

“You come at a bad time, brother,” Running Elk said, frowning. He appeared wan and troubled. “Our people are being hunted like animals. The army wishes to deprive us of our weapons and ponies and to force us onto government lands where we must depend upon them to provide our meat and blankets. The reservations are too crowded to
support so many. People are sickening and dying in increasing numbers.”

“I feel your pain,” Cole said. “I spoke with Crazy Dog a few days ago. He is taking his people to Canada. Is that your plan?”

Running Elk shivered as a chill wind lifted the edges of his robe. “Come inside my lodge. First we will share a pipe, and then I will speak of our plans.”

Cole followed Running Elk inside the tipi. He spoke briefly to Spring Rain and Sun In The Face before settling down beside his friend.

“What brings you to Powder River country?” Running Elk asked curiously. “Where is your woman?”

“I was concerned about the People,” Cole said. “Were many killed at the Little Big Horn?”

“Our losses were surprisingly small. I told my warriors that it was a good day to die as I led them into battle. The bluecoats came on us like a thunderbolt. We retreated to give our warriors time to group together, then we charged. The White warriors dismounted, holding their horses’ reins with one arm while firing. Their horses were so frightened that they pulled them all around. A great many of their shots went up in the air. It was a good fight. The White warriors were brave, but we were braver and stronger.”

“Reprisals have been swift and bloody, just as I predicted. Many of the great chiefs are already in custody. Never again will their power be as great as it once was. I fear for you, Running Elk.”

“Do not fear, my friend. I will die as I have lived … with honor and courage. We cannot survive
without weapons or ponies; that is why I am taking my people to Canada. Even as we speak, preparations are in progress for our departure.”

“Winter is already upon us. The journey will not be without difficulties.”

Running Elk nodded gravely. “I am aware of that. The council has taken everything into consideration and decided that we must make the journey. Even if we die, an honorable death is preferable to being trampled into compliance by White men. What of you, my friend? I sense that your marriage isn’t all I had hoped it would be.”

“If it’s not, it’s entirely my fault. I’m not yet ready to accept another woman in Morning Mist’s place. I left Dawn with my sister. I’m not certain when I’ll return. I’d hoped to find the answer to my dilemma here.”

“You will find nothing here but emptiness and desperation.”

“Perhaps I should go on a vision quest.”

“A vision quest is not necessary. The answers lie within your heart.”

“My heart is too full of Dawn to think clearly. Then, when my mind clears, I feel guilty for harboring such thoughts. Replacing my beloved Morning Mist with another seems sinful.”

“Memories cannot keep you warm on cold nights. You have taken Dawn’s body and shared her mat.”

“We share a physical relationship too pleasurable to accurately describe. When I make love to Dawn I feel as if I’ve waited for her all my life. She’s like an obsession. My need to possess her suffocates me. I had to get away. I needed to find
answers that elude me when I’m with Dawn.”

“Do you expect to find them here?”

“I hoped I would.”

Spring Rain handed Cole a bowl of steaming stew, and he ate distractedly, not even realizing he was chewing and swallowing. When the meal was finished, Running Elk invited Cole to share his lodge with his family. Cole realized it would be an imposition to stay in the already crowded tipi and declined.

“Laughing Brook would be pleased to share her lodge with you,” Running Elk said slyly. “You can take her as your second wife, if you so desire. Laughing Brook would not object. I would offer you a lodge of your own, but at present there are none to spare.”

Cole did not remark on Running Elk’s words as he rose to leave. “How long before you start your journey north?”