The Endless Sky (Cheyenne Series) (62 page)

      
When they finally arrived at the Remington mansion, it looked no more hospitable to Chase than it had when he was a boy. Jeremy fussed as if he sensed his father's malaise.

      
Thomas opened the door, smiling with as much enthusiasm as the old sentinel ever exhibited. “Good day, Mrs. Remington. The reverend will be delighted to hear you've returned safely with the young master and his father.” As Stephanie and Bridget stepped inside, Thomas nodded uneasily to Chase.

      
“How is he, Thomas?” Stephanie asked, worriedly.

      
“Dr. Jamison gave him something to ease the chest pains but he refuses to take it. Says it makes him sleep too much and with the little time he has left he has no intention of wasting it in that manner.”

      
The faint hint of a smile brushed Chase's mouth. The old man was acting himself in spite of his illness. “Is he awake now?”

      
“Yes, sir. Against doctor's orders, he's down in his study writing sermon notes for the assistant minister, Reverend Downey,” Thomas replied with punctilious formality. He had always treaded lightly around the master's wild young grandson.

      
Chase turned to Stephanie. “Why don't you take Jeremy upstairs and feed him? We'll need some time alone.”

      
She studied his expression for a moment, trying to gauge it, offering her love in her eyes. “Very well. Only remember he's been ill

      
He kissed her on the cheek, then watched as she and the maid climbed the massive circular staircase. He wondered which room she had been given as he made his way down the hall to the old man's office. He started to walk in, then stopped.
I'm turning over a new leaf,
he reminded himself as he tapped on the door.

      
“I told you not to bother me until Steph—” Jeremiah looked up as his grandson pushed the door ajar and stepped inside. “You look like hell,” he rasped, as his eyes devoured Chase from head to foot. Was there a suspicious film of moisture over them? He started to get up, then whitened in pain and fell back abruptly onto the chair behind the desk. Before Chase could cross the room to him he shook his head saying, “I'm all right.”

      
“You don't look so hale and hearty yourself,” Chase replied, studying the frail stooped shoulders and gnarled veiny hands. It was the old man's face that shocked him most—haggard, weary, frightened. Jeremiah Remington frightened? Once he would have scoffed and said impossible. Now he was not so sure.
He is at last really old
.

      
“Our sins catch up to all of us one way or the other, Chase. Take a seat...please,” he added, softening his usual preemptory command.

      
Chase pulled a chair up to the side of the big desk as Jeremiah swiveled his chair around to face him. “So, she brought you back. I don't imagine you were eager to come.”

      
Chase did not deny the statement. “She told me all you did to get me out of that hellish place. I owe you.”

      
“No, son. I owe you...and your mother, a debt I can never repay. You told me the truth and like Pharaoh of old, I hardened my heart and refused to listen.”

      
“Stevie told me you found her diary. I never knew about it.”

      
“It stopped in 1849...the year she ran away.” He shook his head. “I would say I never knew the depths of Burke's sickness but perhaps I did and simply couldn't face what he was—what I'd allowed him to become.”

      
“Burke was pure evil. Some men are just born that way. You didn't do it.”

      
“He was my son and Anthea was my daughter. I was responsible for them, but when their mother died I grieved so bitterly I shut them out. I closed my heart to any more pain by burying myself in my work, telling myself it was the Lord's work.” He sighed. “The self-importance of that appalls me now. Stephanie believes I only understood what I'd done to you and your mother when I found the diary. But in the years after she died and you left I thought about it a great deal. I prayed for her soul and yours. Mostly for yours since she's in the Lord's care now and I believe He will be merciful. I knew I'd driven you away and drove her to kill herself to set you free. Oh, at first I couldn't admit it but it was there all the same. Then I started to watch Burke, really watch him. One reason why I made you my heir and only left him a portion was to see how he'd accept it.”

      
“He tried to have me killed not long after your announcement.” Chase saw the shudder pass through the old man.

      
“I never believed he'd risk that, but I did see his hatred and his greed. Could he have been depraved enough to have done what you said to your mother? The thought kept me awake many a night since she died. I lost her and you. I never had Burke in the first place. I know it's too late to ask your forgiveness, but I will ask you not to repeat my mistakes. The greatest responsibility a man has on this earth is to care for his children. I failed. You have a fine son. God willing, you and Stephanie will have many more children. Don't ever turn away from them in grief or anger or despair. Even though you disdain the Remington money, it has secured your freedom and it can help you build a new life for your family.”

      
“Are you still lobbying to have me take over Remington Enterprises?” Chase asked without rancor.

      
Jeremiah shook his head. “I know your place is in the West and so is Stephanie's. While you were growing up I tried to force you to be a Boston Remington. All we ever did was fight over that. I can't make you over and I don't have the right to try. Go home, Chase, but take your family with you this time.”

      
“I think I am home...for the first time, Grandfather.”

Chase's voice was hoarse with emotion, intensified by the sudden blaze of joy that flared to life in the old man's eyes when he at last called him by name. “I've listened, not only with my ears and eyes but with my heart as the Cheyenne taught me. Until now I never learned to do that with you.”

      
“Until now I never said anything worth listening to,” Jeremiah replied with a shaky laugh, wiping the tears from his eyes unabashedly now.

      
“Stevie convinced me that you'd changed and she was right.”

      
“I told her she was a remarkable woman. You could have chosen none finer, son. Of course, I could take some of the credit. After all, I did arrange your betrothal. Would it be too late after all these years to ask if you'd let me marry the two of you?”

      
“I would like that very much—almost as much as Stevie.”

      
Stephanie was waiting in the parlor when they at last emerged from Jeremiah's office. The two of them had been closeted inside for what seemed like hours. When she did not hear shouting or breaking glass, her hopes had grown. The moment they walked through the parlor door, she knew by the looks on their faces and the way Chase deferred to the old man that her prayers had been answered.

      
After a long winter of the soul, Chase and Jeremiah Remington had found their way back into the sun. With little Jeremy in her arms, she embraced them both.

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

      
The reverend married them the next day in a private ceremony in his office. Chase decided it was best that they remain in Boston while he sorted out his life. Little Jeremy was too young to make a cross-country trip and his grandfather was too ill to be left alone in the big empty house. Jeremy grew strong and sturdy surrounded by the love of his parents and great-grandfather. During their months in Boston, Chase studied the vast holdings of Remington Enterprises, knowing that he and his son would one day inherit the privileges and responsibilities of great wealth.

      
To Jeremiah's delight, Chase proved to be not only astute in the business world, but actually enjoyed the cutthroat competition with Gould, Fisk and Carnegie. It was easier than counting coup on Crow warriors, he told his grandfather. But in anticipation of the time they would return to the West, Chase carefully trained a factor who would manage the day-to-day operations in Boston.

      
An agent was dispatched to the Sweetwater in Wyoming to search out Gaston de Boef, who was found happily drunk in his cabin. The canny little Frenchman was willing to search for Little Wolf's band for a price. And after several months had elapsed, he wired that Chase's family was indeed with them. Smooth Stone and Tiny Dancer were well, for which Stephanie shed silent tears of gratitude. One day they would all be reunited.

      
That winter Jeremiah died peacefully in his sleep and was laid to rest alongside his beloved wife, Ada. In the spring, Chase, Stephanie and little Jeremy left Boston forever. Among the Remington interests was an import firm and bank in San Francisco. The beautiful city on the bay would be their new home. In route they left the comfort of a private railcar to travel deep into the Yellowstone country with Gaston de Boef, who led them to Little Wolf’s camp.

 

* * * *

 

      
“It is good to have the White Wolf among us once more. I am only sorry I cannot offer better hospitality,” Little Wolf said, gesturing to the tough stringy antelope roasting on the fire. The buffalo were gone and game was scarce. Soldier patrols came closer every day. Soon they would be forced to accept the charity of the White Father and live on a reservation. It was a bitter thing for the proud hunters of the High Plains.

      
“I owe you a great debt for taking in Stands Tall and my people,” Chase replied as they sat at the fire.

      
His uncle nodded. “We had a long ride from Wyoming but our hearts were good for it.”

      
From across the camp Stephanie, once more dressed in a soft doeskin tunic, watched her husband laugh and talk with the others. He was the White Wolf of old here, dressed in breechclout and leggings, her splendid savage lover.

      
“Your eyes betray you each time you look on him. It is well that you are married,” Kit Fox said teasingly as she rocked little Jeremy.

      
Smooth Stone sat with his foster father at the men's fire, enjoying the great honor, while Tiny Dancer had scarcely left Stephanie's arms since they rode into camp that afternoon. When they left the Cheyenne, the children would go with them. Stephanie had asked her friend Kit Fox and her family to join them as well. “I don't see why you cannot come with us to California. There is rich land, game—”

      
“We must remain here,” Kit Fox replied, shaking her head.

      
“But game is scarce and the army will find you one day soon.”

      
“At least when that day comes, we will all be Cheyenne and we will go to the reservation together. Blue Eagle and I have spoken about your kind offer but you must understand what it means for us to be part of the People. Our ways are communal ways. We share in times of bounty and we share in times of scarcity. All that we have is that sharing. It defines us.”

      
Stephanie nodded, understanding. She must accept the way of the People even though she found it difficult. “I shall miss you, my sister. Perhaps over the years we will visit your fires again.”

      
“Yes, and bring many more children back with you,” Kit Fox replied. The two women exchanged conspiratorial smiles for they were both expecting babies at the end of autumn.

      
Late that night after a long talk with Stands Tall, Chase joined Stephanie outside the lodge that had been given to them during their visit. “The children are all asleep,” she whispered. “It's such a lovely night. Let's walk out and enjoy it.”

      
He extended his hand to her and they strolled away from the flickering lights of the fire. A million stars blazed above them as they stood together on the hillside, looking down on the peaceful village.

      
“Their time is short,” Chase said sadly. “I still have my life, you, the children, a white world I can fit into...but they cannot.”

      
“Kit Fox tried to explain it to me. There is a joining from generation to generation, a sharing of all the good and the bad that gives their lives meaning. I think we've been given a most precious blessing, Chase—to stand with one foot in that world and one in the white world. I've felt Red Bead's spirit watching over us ever since the night Jeremy was born and now I feel Jeremiah's spirit, too, out here under God's starry heavens. It doesn't matter that we are far from Boston.”

      
“You are more Cheyenne than I am at times,” he said fondly, drawing her closer, “but I've felt them, too.”

      
Life would go on and the heritage of the past be preserved in their children and their children's children for many generations. A deep sense of peace stole over them as they stood together beneath the blazing canopy of the endless sky.

 

 

About the Author

 

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