Xenia’s Renegade (8 page)

They finished dinner and went to Mason’s General Store to get the items Chapa wanted. Though Katie looked surprised when they bought a bolt of soft muslin, needles, thread and several yards of ribbons she only asked what color they wanted, Ty remembered the dress Chapa had pressed for Xenia and said, “Blue will do for part of it. Whatever else you have will be fine, too.”

“Anything else, gentlemen?”

“A bag of sugar and for me, a box of cigars.”

“Yeah,” Ty added. “Throw in a box of cigars for me, too.”

As they were leaving with their purchases, Ty heard Katie say to her husband, “What in the world do you think Chapa wants with all that muslin? You know we usually sell the soft stuff for baby blankets and gowns.”

“Maybe Chapa had a baby.”

Ty smiled and glanced at Wilt. He was grinning, too.

****

“I don’t know about this, Chapa.” Xenia stared at the bucket of potatoes sitting beside her. “I’ve never peeled potatoes, but I’ll sure give it a try.”

“At least you’re not afraid of trying.” Chapa walked over beside her. “Let me show you. First, you don’t use a huge knife like you’re holding. That’s more for cutting up chicken or slicing bacon.” She picked up a small paring knife. “This is what you need for peeling. You can start at any section of the potato you want, but I always start on the end. Try to peel as close to the skin as you can. That way you don’t waste any of your potato.”

Xenia took the knife and began to peel the vegetable. She knew she was cutting too deep at times and gouging out chunks of the potato meat, but Chapa kept encouraging her.

Mea Ann put Johnny in the cradle Chapa had brought from storage and placed near the door. “He’s asleep. What can I do to help?”

“Have you ever made biscuits?”

“I’m afraid not. Xenia and I weren’t allowed to be in the kitchen when cook was preparing a meal. I would slip in occasionally and she would show me a few things. I learned how to make tea, and I know how to put the icing on a cake.”

“That’s good to know. The boys like cake, but we’re having pies tonight. I need you to scrape the carrots to put around the roast with Xenia’s potatoes. I’ll show you how to do that.”

It didn’t take Mea Ann long to get the hang of scraping and slicing the carrots into chunks. She looked up from her job, “May I ask you something, Chapa?”

“Of course you can, child.”

“How long have you been taking care of Wilt and Ty?”

“Practically all my life. I don’t know how much Wilt and Ty have told you about our family, but my mother’s name was Winona. She was the first born daughter of the chief of our Sioux tribe. Her name even means Firstborn Daughter. When a trapper came through the area, he took a liking to her and eventually they married. They had three daughters. Dowanhowee was the eldest. Her name means Spring Voice. Kimimela means Butterfly, and she was the next. And I, Chapa, was the youngest.  Shortly after my birth, my father was killed by a bear. I don’t remember him.

“On a snowy winter day when I was about sixteen summers old, two cowboys came to our village in the South Dakota area. They were the Eldridge twins, and they were on their way south. After being with our tribe for several weeks Winona noticed they were paying a lot of attention to her eldest daughters. She didn’t like the idea, but she knew she’d fallen in love with a white man, and she didn’t deny her daughters the same type of love if that was what they wanted. But the men said they couldn’t stay with our people. Though they loved my sisters, they left.”

She paused. “I think you have enough potatoes peeled, Xenia. Now wash them off and chop them up in chunks.”

Xenia washed them and began to cut them as she hoped Chapa had instructed. “Like this?”

“That’s perfect.” She smiled. “You can slow down on the carrots, too, Mea Ann. Maybe two more, and you will have enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Chapa bit her lip.  “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. The next morning, our village was attacked by soldiers and many of my people were killed. Somehow, our mother escaped with the three of us. She found a way through the snow to where the Eldridge brothers had camped. She begged them to take her daughters to safety. They agreed only if she would come along. She did, and that is how we ended up here in the Arizona Territory.”

“Did the Eldridge men marry your sisters?” Xenia looked at her.

“Yes. Dowanhowee married Wilton and Kimimela married Tyler.”

“Oh, what a wonderful story. Which one of your sisters was Wilt’s mother?”

“Dowanhowee. Wilt was born the second spring after we had been here for a year. The twins had made a lot of money somehow, and they’d built the two houses and connected them with the kitchen and parlor in the middle so each one would have their private living quarters, but would meet here for meals. When Wilt was born, his father wanted him to have his name and Dowanhowee named him Wilton Wahchinksapa Eldridge. It means Wise, but we always called him Wilt.”

“He is a very wise man,” Mea Ann said.

“Then I assume Ty’s mother was Kimimela.” Xenia looked at Chapa.

“Yes, Xenia. His full name is Tyler Napayshni Eldridge, and we called him Ty. His Sioux name means Courageous. He was born the next year after we came here. He’s a year older than Wilt.”

“His Sioux name fits him, because he is the most courageous man I’ve ever met.”

“What happened to their grandmother and their parents, Chapa?” Mea Ann looked sad.

“Winona grew sick and frail. She went to be with our forefathers when Ty was twelve and Wilt was eleven. A year later, their fathers were killed when a gold mine they were working collapsed. After that, Dowanhowee and Kimimela seemed to lose their will to live. Kimimela died two years later. Six months after her death, Dowanhowee went to our forefathers, too. Since then, I’ve been almost like a mother to both the boys—and I have to say, they treat me as if I am that important to them.” She gave them a smile. “Now, give me those vegetables so I can arrange them around the roast.”

“Chapa, you told us what everyone’s Sioux name means except yours. What does Chapa mean?”

“I don’t like what my name means, Mea Ann. I was always jealous of my older sisters because they had sweet meanings. Butterfly and Firstborn Daughter. My name is sometimes used as a brave’s name as well as a girl child. I always thought I should have something else as an Indian name.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

She looked at them a minute. “Oh, I might as well tell you, because one of the boys will. It means Beaver. Can you believe my mother gave me a name like Beaver? Beavers look like drowned rats.”

Xenia shook her head. “I don’t see why you’d hate your name, Chapa. I think beavers are cute. Besides that, they’re smart and industrious. There was a pond behind my friend’s house in Virginia and there were beavers in it. We loved watching them. They don’t waste time, and they build their dams quickly. Just the way you run this house. You have everything working on schedule—even your nephews. I think you should be proud to be a busy beaver. I wish I had an Indian name that would describe me so well.”

Chapa looked at her for a moment then a smile spread across her face. “You know, Xenia, I’ve never thought of it that way. Maybe being a beaver isn’t so bad after all.”

“Aunt Chapa, this was a great supper.” Ty pushed back his chair and grinned at his aunt. “Wilt and I knew we’d find something good to eat when we got home, didn’t we, cousin?”

“We sure did. Had dinner at the Boots and Spurs Café, but as good as Mrs. Thurman can cook, it’s no comparison with yours.”

“I appreciate the compliments, boys, but I didn’t cook all this on my own. Mea Ann and Xenia helped.”

Ty raised his eyebrow. “Then we need to compliment the Poindexter sisters, too.”

Mea Ann blushed, and Xenia said, “Chapa is giving us too much credit. I prepared the potatoes for the roast, and Mea Ann peeled the carrots. Chapa did the cooking.”

Ty winked at her. “Well, those were the best potatoes I’ve had in a long time.”

“And I sure did like those carrots,” Wilt said with a grin.

“Now, fellows, if you’re through with the flowery words, how about some apple pie? I made it because I know how much you two like it.”

“I bet you also made it because of our company. You wanted to show off your baking skills,” Ty teased her.

“Well, maybe just a little. Xenia said apple was one of her favorites, and Mea Ann said she liked it, too.”

“Then by all means, let’s have a slice and I could use another cup of coffee.”

“Ty Eldridge, I can’t believe you’d sit there and let your aunt wait on you. Your arm isn’t broken, so there’s no reason why you can’t get your own coffee.”

Chapa laughed. “Xenia, he’s like most men. He thinks women were made to serve him.”

“Well, he shouldn’t think that way.” Xenia turned to him. “While you’re getting your coffee, I’d like a refill, too.”

Did she expect him to get up and get coffee? One look at her face told him she meant exactly that. Was this the time to show her that no woman was going to boss him around? She might not like it, and he was determined to make his stand at some time…but was this the right moment?

He waited too long to make his decision, because Wilt stood. “I’ll get the coffee. I feel these women have worked hard enough preparing the meal.”

Chapa came back with the pie and plates. Wilt followed her with the coffee.

“I figured we might want more, so I decided to bring the pot to the table.”

“That’s a good idea, Wilt.” Mea Ann looked at him with admiration in her eyes. “You’re such a gentleman.”

Ty bit his lip. Why hadn’t he got up and brought the damn coffee? Xenia might have looked at him that way with her pretty blue eyes. No. There was no way she’d ever look at him that way. Her actions made it clear she only wanted him when she was in trouble and needed help. Otherwise, he was sure she didn’t even like him.

The pie was as tasty as it always was, but Ty didn’t notice. He continued to think about Xenia, and it wasn’t long until another woman came into his mind. A woman he thought he’d put to rest years earlier…and yet, she’d entered his mind in the last two days. That woman had stolen his heart, then turned on him when he refused to sell his half of the ranch to Wilt and move with her to San Francisco.

He clearly remembered some of the last words she said to him. “I hate you, Tyler Eldridge. I thought because you’re a rich man I could get you away from here and change you into a civilized human being instead of the renegade you are. I even believed you’d forget your Sioux heritage. But I was wrong. You’re nothing but a stinking breed, and that’s all you’ll ever be. No decent woman would ever lower herself to actually
marry
a man like you. A man the people around here know as a breed, though they won’t say it to your face because you have too much money. Don’t you realize they know you’re an
Indian
who might join a renegade band and start scalping people at any moment?”

Verna McGill then turned, grabbed her valise and walked out of the hotel, leaving Ty standing there staring at her and fingering the diamond wedding band he had in his pocket. The band he’d hoped to put on her finger. At that moment, Ty swore he’d never love another woman. Especially not a white woman. He’d use them for his pleasure, and he’d never mistreat one, but as far as he was concerned women were only born to serve him and give him pleasure when he wanted it. Nothing more.

That day, he cemented his vow on the way home to the ranch by throwing the diamond ring into the deep canyon on the edge of his property. That happened five years earlier, and until he met Xenia Poindexter, he’d not once questioned his decision. Now, she’d reinforced it by trying to tell him what to do.

Chapa’s voice interrupted his memories. “Ty Eldridge. Are you deaf tonight?”

He looked at her. “I’m sorry, Aunt Chapa. Did you say something to me?”

“No, but Xenia has asked you a question twice and you’ve ignored her.”

He looked at Xenia. “My mind was elsewhere. What did you want?”

“I just asked if you’d take me to town in the morning. I need to see if I can locate our uncle. We came to Arizona to help him, and we’ve done nothing yet.”

This was good. He needed to get her out of his house so he wouldn’t have these crazy thoughts about her. “Sure. I’ll get you to town.”

“Thank you. I’m sure Uncle Seymour will be happy to see me.”

Ty lifted an eyebrow. He only knew one man named Seymour and he was sure he was the type Xenia would never be connected to. “I might be able to help you find your uncle. What’s his name, Xenia?”

“Seymour Longstreet.”

Wilt frowned and Ty knew his cousin was as shocked and surprised as he was.  He figured they were both thinking the same thing, and that was—what in the world did the Poindexter sisters have to do with the notorious saloon owner?

****

“I’m sorry Mea Ann sprained her ankle while gathering the eggs this morning and wasn’t able to come with me. I’m sure she wants to help Uncle Seymour as much as I do,” Xenia said, as Ty helped her into the buggy after breakfast.

“It was probably best she stay at the ranch. She needs somebody to help her with Johnny, and you couldn’t get better help than Aunt Chapa.”

“Of course, you’re right, and I agree that Chapa will be a wonderful help. She’s a special woman, and Mea Ann knows it’d be hard for her to look after Johnny when she can barely walk.”

“She’ll be fine in a few days.” He came around and climbed into the buggy beside her.

“Thank you for taking me to town this morning, Ty. I know I’m probably taking you away from work you need to do on the ranch.”

“Wilt can handle it. Besides, I need to turn in this buggy. It’s the one we rented to bring you and Mea Ann here the other night.”

“Oh, I see.”

He glanced at her. “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in the seat behind me?”

“Not really.  Besides, we couldn’t talk if I rode in the second seat.”

He wondered what she wanted to talk about, and decided to ask her.

She answered with, “I didn’t say anything at supper last night, but when I told you Uncle Seymour’s name, there was a strange look on your face. You know him, don’t you?”

“I know who he is, yes.”

“Tell me about him. Is he a good man? Does he live in Deer Meadow? Is he married, and does he have children?”

“You don’t know anything about him, do you, Xenia?”

“Not really. He’s my mother’s brother, but they’ve never been close. The last time I saw him I was a young girl, but I remembered I liked him. He told funny stories.” She paused and took a breath. “Mea Ann wants to help him, too, but the rest of the family tells me he’s a no good scalawag who is probably dishonest and isn’t worth bothering with. It’s hard for me to believe that.”

“He does have a reputation around here.”

“Oh? What can you tell me about him?”

“Well,” Ty hesitated. How was he to tell her the uncle she wanted to help was not worth helping?

“I can take it, even if it’s something bad, Ty. Please, tell me about my uncle.”

“The business he runs isn’t a very nice one, Xenia.” He hoped this answer would satisfy her.

It didn’t.

“What kind of business does he have?”

“Oh, hell, Xenia. I might as well tell you. Seymour Longstreet owns and runs the Golden Door Saloon in Deer Meadow. The one you found Wilt and me in the other night. He’s also a gambler, and everybody knows he’ll do anything to make money.” He decided he wouldn’t tell her how Seymour forced one of the young women in town into prostitution after the girl’s father gave her to him to pay off a gambling debt. Everyone now knew that woman as Little Lil.

Xenia was quiet for a moment, then she asked in a soft voice, “Was he arrested and put in jail for something he says he didn’t do?”

“As far as I know, Seymour was never arrested. But I’ll have to ask the sheriff to be sure. Sometimes, he’ll throw somebody in jail and nobody knows about it because they’re out the next day.”

“So when he said they might hang him if we didn’t come to help, he was telling a lie?”

“Wait until we get to the bottom of this to make up your mind, Xenia.” Though he didn’t believe it, he added, “It could all be a misunderstanding.”

“Then when we get to the saloon, we’ll find some answers.”

“We won’t go directly to the saloon, Xenia.”

“Why not? I want to—”

“I know you do, but that’s not the way saloons work. The place will be locked up tight until almost noon. They work mostly at night, and nobody stirs until at least ten or eleven. Not even the cook or barkeep.”

“Then what shall I do until then?”

“I’ll take you to the hotel. You can rent a room and…”

“That man at the hotel won’t rent me a room.”

“I think you’ll see he has changed his mind when I take you to the desk.”

She shook her head. “If you go in he’ll probably kick you out, too. He doesn’t like babies or probably grown-ups with Indian blood in them.”

“There are a lot of people who feel that way, Xenia.”

She frowned. “Why?”

He couldn’t believe she asked him that, but he felt compelled to answer. “I guess because nobody believes the races should ever become friends. People in this area still remember the Indian raids in which they lost relatives or friends.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s not perfect on the Indian side, either. Many remember the raids on villages by the army, and by some ranchers where their people died, too.” He glanced at Xenia. “Sometimes, they feel the same way about breeds as the white people do.”

“That’s ridiculous. A baby can’t control the circumstances of its birth.” She shook her head. “Look at Johnny. He’s one of the sweetest babies you’ll ever see. If someone would hate him because his mother was an Indian, then that person is the one with the problem—not Johnny.”

He glared sideways at her. Did she mean what she was saying? If so, she was the first and only white woman he’d ever met who felt that way. Well, Mea Ann could be the second. She must think the same thing as Xenia, else she wouldn’t love Johnny so much. And he had no doubt but that Mea Ann loved the boy. She couldn’t or wouldn’t be as attentive to him if she didn’t care.

Xenia broke the silence that followed her statement. “You haven’t said anything for a while. You must have something important on your mind. Or maybe I insulted you. Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, Xenia you said nothing wrong. I guess it’s just hard for me to believe that a woman like you would feel the way you say you do about mixed blood people.”

“I would never lie about my feelings, Ty, but what do you mean, ‘a woman like me’?”

“I mean a white city woman. A woman who is used to fancy things and fancy people. I bet until you came west you never gave the Indian population a thought.”

“You’re right that I never thought much about the race, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t realize Indians were people. They were just people I hadn’t met, and didn’t know anything about.”

“May I ask you something?”

She turned to look at him. “Could I stop you from asking if I wanted to?”

He chuckled. “Probably not.”

“Then ask your question.”

“What would your father and mother say if you sent them a telegraph wire saying you’d met an Indian cowboy that you wanted to marry?”

“Father would stomp and rave then send me a wire demanding that I come home immediately. Then, he’d head to Arizona to stop me because he knows when I set my mind on doing something, I usually do it—one way or another. Mother would cry and wonder what she’d done wrong in raising me, and then she’d probably take to her bed until I either came to my senses or Father brought me home.”

“Because the cowboy was an Indian?”

She laughed. “No, not at all. They’d react that way because he was not one of the silly, top-coated, fancy talking young men who had an up-and-coming career in Richmond. One who could never be a real man who would fight for and protect his wife, but would always treat her as if she was some silly woman who was only interested in having gowns that all her friends would envy while sitting around in the parlor drinking tea. A woman who never had a serious thought cross her brain.”