“I reckon it will. But it’s not my war, Lieutenant. My war is right here, on the side of the Indians against the whites who come out here and kill them off with their diseases and by slaughtering the buffalo and trying to pen my people up like cattle.”
Their eyes held and the lieutenant studied the tall, dark man before him, whose very manner bespoke courage and meanness. He still had a nagging intuition that Randolph Cole had not fallen from his mount and broken his neck. “You ride a dangerous road, Mister Monroe,” he replied. “You’re either a Southerner or an Indian. Either way you’re on the losing end.”
“I’m no Southerner,” Zeke replied. “I make noclaim to that part of me. I’m just Indian, Lieutenant, and if that’s the losing end, then at least I’ll go down fighting and go down proud.”
The lieutenant glanced at Abbie. “God be with you, ma’am,” he said quietly. He turned to Zeke once more and stared briefly. Zeke realized the man suspected something and was letting it go.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said, his eyes grateful.
The lieutenant sighed and nodded, then left. Zeke watched after him a moment, then turned to Black Elk with a gleam in his eye.
“I think maybe I’d better start packing, Black Elk, before somebody puts two and two together, and while Lieutenant Perkins is in a generous mood.”
Black Elk nodded. “You go to Santa Fe?” Zeke nodded. “I stay for big race,” Black Elk added.
Zeke looked around at the frenzied crowd, as more racers took off and the young Navaho and young private who would ride the big race of the day stood to the side, talking to their mounts.
“Watch yourself, Black Elk,” he told his brother. “I don’t like the mood of the soldiers, and I have an uneasy feeling. I can’t name it. I just smell trouble.”
Black Elk shrugged. “We will see.” He put a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “It is a good job you did on that man who touched your woman.” His eyes gleamed. “I knew you would think of a way.”
Wolf’s Blood stood aside, watching his father with pride and feeling his own revenge through his father’s deed. He reached down and petted Smoke. “It is a good day!” he told the animal softly. Smoke’s tail wagged, something the animal rarely did. The vicious but loyal pet seemed to sense that proper vengeance had been meted.
Zeke put an arm around Abbie. “Let’s get out of here,” he told her. She swallowed and nodded, stillshaking from worry.
“Agreed,” she answered quietly. She bent down and picked up little Jason, and they headed for the village, the rest of the children running and skipping beside them, the little ones trying to keep up with their father’s long stride.
“What do you think about Danny leaving Fort Laramie to join the Confederates?” Zeke asked Abbie, himself troubled by the news about his favorite brother.
“I don’t know what to think,” she answered. “I’m only worried. Everyone we talk to keeps saying what a terrible and bloody war it’s turning out to be. I only hope you don’t get mixed up in it, Zeke.”
He kept a hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve no cause or desire to get involved. There is enough happening right here with my own people.”
“But you also have people in Tennessee, my husband, much as you wish to deny it.”
He stopped walking, and she went on a few steps before turning to meet his eyes. “I’ll not say it again, Abigail. I have no people in Tennessee!” His eyes flashed with anger, as they always did when she mentioned his white father, which he knew was what she meant by her remark. She reddened slightly and nodded, saying nothing. It was a subject they rarely spoke about, mostly because it was the only subject that caused painful feelings between them. She turned away and started walking again.
“Abbie!” he called out. She stopped, holding little Jason close and keeping her back to him.
Their eyes held and the lieutenant studied the tall, dark man before him, whose very manner bespoke courage and meanness. He still had a nagging intuition that Randolph Cole had not fallen from his mount and broken his neck. “You ride a dangerous road, Mister Monroe,” he replied. “You’re either a Southerner or an Indian. Either way you’re on the losing end.”
“I’m no Southerner,” Zeke replied. “I make noclaim to that part of me. I’m just Indian, Lieutenant, and if that’s the losing end, then at least I’ll go down fighting and go down proud.”
The lieutenant glanced at Abbie. “God be with you, ma’am,” he said quietly. He turned to Zeke once more and stared briefly. Zeke realized the man suspected something and was letting it go.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said, his eyes grateful.
The lieutenant sighed and nodded, then left. Zeke watched after him a moment, then turned to Black Elk with a gleam in his eye.
“I think maybe I’d better start packing, Black Elk, before somebody puts two and two together, and while Lieutenant Perkins is in a generous mood.”
Black Elk nodded. “You go to Santa Fe?” Zeke nodded. “I stay for big race,” Black Elk added.
Zeke looked around at the frenzied crowd, as more racers took off and the young Navaho and young private who would ride the big race of the day stood to the side, talking to their mounts.
“Watch yourself, Black Elk,” he told his brother. “I don’t like the mood of the soldiers, and I have an uneasy feeling. I can’t name it. I just smell trouble.”
Black Elk shrugged. “We will see.” He put a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “It is a good job you did on that man who touched your woman.” His eyes gleamed. “I knew you would think of a way.”
Wolf’s Blood stood aside, watching his father with pride and feeling his own revenge through his father’s deed. He reached down and petted Smoke. “It is a good day!” he told the animal softly. Smoke’s tail wagged, something the animal rarely did. The vicious but loyal pet seemed to sense that proper vengeance had been meted.
Zeke put an arm around Abbie. “Let’s get out of here,” he told her. She swallowed and nodded, stillshaking from worry.
“Agreed,” she answered quietly. She bent down and picked up little Jason, and they headed for the village, the rest of the children running and skipping beside them, the little ones trying to keep up with their father’s long stride.
“What do you think about Danny leaving Fort Laramie to join the Confederates?” Zeke asked Abbie, himself troubled by the news about his favorite brother.
“I don’t know what to think,” she answered. “I’m only worried. Everyone we talk to keeps saying what a terrible and bloody war it’s turning out to be. I only hope you don’t get mixed up in it, Zeke.”
He kept a hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve no cause or desire to get involved. There is enough happening right here with my own people.”
“But you also have people in Tennessee, my husband, much as you wish to deny it.”
He stopped walking, and she went on a few steps before turning to meet his eyes. “I’ll not say it again, Abigail. I have no people in Tennessee!” His eyes flashed with anger, as they always did when she mentioned his white father, which he knew was what she meant by her remark. She reddened slightly and nodded, saying nothing. It was a subject they rarely spoke about, mostly because it was the only subject that caused painful feelings between them. She turned away and started walking again.
“Abbie!” he called out. She stopped, holding little Jason close and keeping her back to him.
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