it take for her to stay?
Seth realized Celia would want to find her father’s killer. But
then what?
Pushing the Stetson to the back of his
head, Seth glanced up at the sky. Crystal blue smiled back at him.
It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing worth keeping ever was. Rising to
return to work, Seth promised himself, he’d be there when she
needed him.
***
The four of them stood over the body of
Lone Eagle as Celia began to pray to the Great Spirit. Seth and Ty
removed their hats. Besides the one outward show of respect, there
was little the brothers could do except stand in silence as Celia
and Broken Horse turned their faces toward the sky and focused on
the Comanche prayer of passage.
She wore a beaded dress of soft deer
hide confiscated from the wreckage and had chosen to paint a red
strip down the part in her hair in respect of the ceremonial
custom. Soft moccasins covered her feet and she appeared almost as
Seth remembered. He saw Celia’s hands tremble when she placed Lone
Eagle’s tomahawk in his crossed arms. She adjusted his beaded
headband and gently smoothed the feathers. The fox fur she had
asked Ty to gather served as a warm, soft pillow to rest her
father’s head on. Finally, laying a buckskin hide they’d managed to
salvage over him, Celia said good-bye to her father.
The pain in her face was something Seth
would remember forever. Listening silently to the cousins chants,
Seth chaffed at the ineptness he harbored. His hand itched to reach
out and console her openly. Though he knew she wouldn’t welcome it,
he found he wanted to sooth her, to somehow remove the anguish from
her heart. Seth banked the urge as he watched her complete the
ceremony. She had to do this alone.
“ Good-bye, Father. I love
you.”
The sound of the spade of dirt hitting
the buckskin seemed to echo through the trees around
them.
***
Ty banked the fire to chase away the
chill. Moving to where Seth lay, he crouched down and gave his
brother’s shoulder a good shake. “Wake up. It’s your
turn.”
Darkness surrounded them and a cool
dampness had set in overnight.
Seth stretched his stiff muscles under
the cover of his bedroll and shifted slightly, peering at his
sibling from a sleep-clouded face. “What?” Seth managed the one
word question while he glared at Ty out of one eye.
“ It’s your turn at watch.”
Ty grinned.
“ What’s so damn funny about
that?” Seth scrubbed at the growth of hair on his chin.
Ty shook his head in resigned
amusement. “How you can wake up with a scowl on your ugly mug when
you’re the one who’s got the sleep under his belt is beyond me.” Ty
pivoted on his haunches and picked up the cup of coffee he’d poured
earlier before passing it to his brother. “Here”
Watching him from the other side of the
steaming cup, Seth only grunted.
“ Broken Horse has gone out
tracking. He left a little while ago after he said goodbye to
Celia. He said to tell you he’d get in touch as soon as he had
something to report,” Ty told his brother. “I did some looking on
my own.” Ty searched the horizon as he changed the subject. “The
tracks leading away from Lone Eagle’s camp are army issued shoes.
You were right. I even found an army issued rifle stock broken in
the bushes. But the Army, at least the soldiers I know from Fort
Tyler, would never even consider a massacre like that.”
“ Whoever’s responsible did a
hell of a lot more than just consider it. That’s for damn sure.”
Seth sat up and flung the blanket aside.
Ty continued to rest on his haunches,
his arms hanging loosely over his knees in a position he’d learned
as a young boy at the knee of his mother’s Choctaw
father.
“ I think you’re right about
the Army, though.” Seth turned to Ty as he spoke. “As far as I can
tell, Major Chance’s men have followed their orders to a tee.
They’ve done nothing more than round up the Comanche and escort
them to the reservation.” Seth got to his feet
Seth realized Celia would want to find her father’s killer. But
then what?
Pushing the Stetson to the back of his
head, Seth glanced up at the sky. Crystal blue smiled back at him.
It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing worth keeping ever was. Rising to
return to work, Seth promised himself, he’d be there when she
needed him.
***
The four of them stood over the body of
Lone Eagle as Celia began to pray to the Great Spirit. Seth and Ty
removed their hats. Besides the one outward show of respect, there
was little the brothers could do except stand in silence as Celia
and Broken Horse turned their faces toward the sky and focused on
the Comanche prayer of passage.
She wore a beaded dress of soft deer
hide confiscated from the wreckage and had chosen to paint a red
strip down the part in her hair in respect of the ceremonial
custom. Soft moccasins covered her feet and she appeared almost as
Seth remembered. He saw Celia’s hands tremble when she placed Lone
Eagle’s tomahawk in his crossed arms. She adjusted his beaded
headband and gently smoothed the feathers. The fox fur she had
asked Ty to gather served as a warm, soft pillow to rest her
father’s head on. Finally, laying a buckskin hide they’d managed to
salvage over him, Celia said good-bye to her father.
The pain in her face was something Seth
would remember forever. Listening silently to the cousins chants,
Seth chaffed at the ineptness he harbored. His hand itched to reach
out and console her openly. Though he knew she wouldn’t welcome it,
he found he wanted to sooth her, to somehow remove the anguish from
her heart. Seth banked the urge as he watched her complete the
ceremony. She had to do this alone.
“ Good-bye, Father. I love
you.”
The sound of the spade of dirt hitting
the buckskin seemed to echo through the trees around
them.
***
Ty banked the fire to chase away the
chill. Moving to where Seth lay, he crouched down and gave his
brother’s shoulder a good shake. “Wake up. It’s your
turn.”
Darkness surrounded them and a cool
dampness had set in overnight.
Seth stretched his stiff muscles under
the cover of his bedroll and shifted slightly, peering at his
sibling from a sleep-clouded face. “What?” Seth managed the one
word question while he glared at Ty out of one eye.
“ It’s your turn at watch.”
Ty grinned.
“ What’s so damn funny about
that?” Seth scrubbed at the growth of hair on his chin.
Ty shook his head in resigned
amusement. “How you can wake up with a scowl on your ugly mug when
you’re the one who’s got the sleep under his belt is beyond me.” Ty
pivoted on his haunches and picked up the cup of coffee he’d poured
earlier before passing it to his brother. “Here”
Watching him from the other side of the
steaming cup, Seth only grunted.
“ Broken Horse has gone out
tracking. He left a little while ago after he said goodbye to
Celia. He said to tell you he’d get in touch as soon as he had
something to report,” Ty told his brother. “I did some looking on
my own.” Ty searched the horizon as he changed the subject. “The
tracks leading away from Lone Eagle’s camp are army issued shoes.
You were right. I even found an army issued rifle stock broken in
the bushes. But the Army, at least the soldiers I know from Fort
Tyler, would never even consider a massacre like that.”
“ Whoever’s responsible did a
hell of a lot more than just consider it. That’s for damn sure.”
Seth sat up and flung the blanket aside.
Ty continued to rest on his haunches,
his arms hanging loosely over his knees in a position he’d learned
as a young boy at the knee of his mother’s Choctaw
father.
“ I think you’re right about
the Army, though.” Seth turned to Ty as he spoke. “As far as I can
tell, Major Chance’s men have followed their orders to a tee.
They’ve done nothing more than round up the Comanche and escort
them to the reservation.” Seth got to his feet
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