Ian shook his head.
“I missed my wife. Been missing her since the day she was elected mayor. Call me selfish but I don’t like sharing. So I went and had some drinks with Charlene.”
“At the cathouse in Laramie?”
“Yeah. How Vivy found out, I don’t know, but she did. Next I know, we’re arguing, she’s crying, I’m swearing. She told me I was no longer welcome, and I left.”
Ian felt sorry for his friend. As Charlie’d said, Harp and Vivy loved each other like the mountains loved snow. Ian hoped they’d be able to come together and recognize that before it was too late. “So now you’re divorced?”
“Yep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Tell me about Draper.”
“He’s trying to take advantage of all the ranchers caught short by the blizzard last year and loaning them the money they need to start over.”
The blizzard of 1888 killed most of the cattle on the plains. From Kansas to Wyoming they froze to death. Many ranchers were now scrambling to rebuild their herds. “How are the big associations responding?”
“For the most part ignoring him. He can’t possibly make a move on them, they’re bigger, stronger, and better armed, and they know it. So he’s putting pressure on the smaller ranches, hoping to convince them to join him because they’ll owe him for bailing them out.”
“I ran into one of his hired guns today. Man by the name of Pratt Ketchum.”
“Met him. How do you know him?”
Ian explained.
Harper sighed. “Wonderful. That’s all we need, a madman.”
“Who else is on Draper’s payroll?”
Harper recited the names, but they weren’t men Ian was familiar with.
Harper added, “Draper has this idea that after he consolidates all the small herds, he’s going to drive them up to the rail lines in Canada because the big associations have the southern routes into Laramie and Cheyenne in their pockets. He’s already got his route in mind, too. And guess whose land his main drive will have to go through?”
Cattle needed water on a drive and Night Hawk was one of the few ranches with fresh water flowing through it. “Mine.”
“Yes, so it’s a good thing you’re back.”
Ian thought so, too. “Whose side is Tom Benton on?”
“His own as usual, but Draper needs Tom’s support. He knows Tom hates the big boys and if Draper could get him on board that would be a tall feather in his cap. But we know Tom’s not stupid. He’s sticking to his guns, and Draper’s not happy. Henny thinks her father should throw in with Draper, too. Draper has her convinced the profit will be higher than what she and Tom are getting now down in Laramie.” Harper studied Ian for a moment. “Henny know you’re married?”
“Yes, she was here to welcome me home.”
“That must’ve been a scene.”
“My wife, Maggie, handled it well. Henny didn’t. I wound up riding away from her.”
“Looks like it’s going to be an interesting summer.”
“Sure does.”
“I’ll move my gear out in the morning. Guess I’ll have to start sleeping in my office.”
“Or work on getting your wife to change her mind.”
“The mountains will dance first. I’m going to bed.”
“See you in the morning.”
Alone, Ian sat and thought back on what he’d learned from Harper. No one knew anything about Draper before he showed up in the county three years ago, except he claimed to be from back East. Wherever his origins, he’d arrived with enough money in his pockets to purchase a good-sized portion of land. Not as much as Ian owned, or Henny’s father, Tom Benton, whose land stretched almost to the Wind River mountains, but enough that he figured he should have a say in what went on politically and economically. Many of the neighboring ranchers disagreed, mostly because Draper didn’t know beans about cattle or horses. He claimed to know money, however, and had talked a few locals into investing in some enterprises he had a hand in. Ian had no idea how that turned out because he hadn’t invested a dime and had no plans to alter his position. Last winter’s blizzard had left folks vulnerable to smooth talkers like Draper, especially when that talk had money dangling on the end of it like bait on a line. He decided to put Draper out of his mind. Whatever Draper and Pratt Ketchum were up to would eventually come to light, so he’d face it then.
Ian stepped out onto the porch and looked up at the stars. He was glad to be home. No more trains, or too small beds, or bad food, or hunting down men like prey. For the first time in years he felt at peace, and knew that a lot of that feeling was rooted in the small, feisty jewel sleeping in his bed. He felt so blessed to have found her. Nothing before had ever moved his heart as forcefully as she’d done. It hadn’t been his intention to tell her his story in the way that he had. Once he started he couldn’t stop and the dregs of bitterness that had been festering inside bubbled up and now seemed drained away. He’d shared details of his school life he’d never shared with anyone else, not even his mother. Now, however, Maggie knew what he’d endured, who he was, and how he’d come to be the man she’d agreed to marry. He felt cleansed and freed of the demons that had perpetually stalked his soul since that part of his life. Maggie had listened and she’d wept just as he had done night after torturous night. So he would reward her for what she’d given him by loving her with every breath he took, and with every beat of his heart for as long as he lived. A verse from Solomon filled him: Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death.
Ian took one last look at the stars and went inside.
Chapter 22
Ian awakened at dawn to the ringing of an axe. He figured it was Charlie, so he reached out to pull Maggie closer but she wasn’t there. Groggy and confused, he sat up. Thinking she might be down the hall taking care of her needs, he waited. No Maggie. He waited longer. No Maggie. The axe continued to punctuate the air and then something occurred to him that made him toss the bedding aside and quickly drag on his denims and boots. With his union suit covering the upper portion of his body he headed to the kitchen.
Charlie was standing at the back door looking out at the yard. He had his blue tin coffee mug in hand.
The axe rang again.
Charlie turned to Ian with an amused look on his face.
“Tell me she’s not out there chopping wood.”
“Too early in the morning for telling lies, so come look for yourself.”
Ian did and sighed at the sight of her swinging the axe with an authority and precision no woman her size should be able to display.
Charlie saluted her efforts with his mug. “Girl’s been cutting wood a long time from the looks of her. Good at it, too.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
Charlie gave him a look. “I couldn’t even handle her at dinner last night. I’m not arguing with her while she has an axe in her hand.”
“I see your point.”
“So go on out there and disarm her and I’ll get breakfast started. Unless she’s hell-bent on doing that this morning, too.”
“Where’s Harp?”
“Already up and gone.”
Ian got coffee to fortify himself for the confrontation to come, then, cup in hand, stepped outside.
“Morning, Maggie.”
The smile she shot him could have doubled for summer sunshine. “Morning.” The axe came down again. She expertly split the large cord of wood and worked the blade free.
“May I ask what you’re doing?”
“Making jam,” she tossed back. “What’s it look like I’m doing.” The axe split the wood again.
He smiled over the rim of his cup. She was dressed in her denims and one of the shirts she’d picked out in Cheyenne. The sleeves were rolled up past her elbows. “Let me rephrase the question. Why are you making jam?”
She stopped and wiped the perspiration from her brow. “Are we a
bout to have another conversation about what I can and cannot do around here?”
“Afraid so.”
She sent him a mock snarl.
“You want coffee first?”
“Please.”
When he returned, he handed her a cup. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, as you can see, which is why I’m out here.”
“I understand that, however, you have two strong men at your beck and call now. You no longer have to be up before the sun doing chores.”
“And suppose I want to be up doing chores before sunup?”
There was a light of humor in her eyes that Ian found irresistible and he knew he was going to lose the argument because he loved her entirely too much to deny her anything, even chopping wood before dawn. “Shall we compromise then?”
“I’m listening.”
“Suppose we divide up the duties and you chop wood, say, one day a week.”
“Make it two and we have a deal, Marshal.”
She hadn’t addressed him that way in a while and the sound of it made him remember all the wonder and commotion she’d introduced him to. “Two days it is.”
“That was easy,” she said, smiling.
Amused by all that she was, he decided he was going to have to find something for his princess to do, like build a school for her to teach in. He brightened inside. That would certainly give her plenty to do besides chopping wood. “Give me a kiss.”
She did and once they both saw stars, she said, “We should argue more often.”
He laughed out loud.
After breakfast, Ian rode off to talk with Tom Benton about the Draper business and to catch up on what else was going on that he might need to be aware of. Maggie and Charlie were planning to spend the day turning the dirt in the spot where she wanted to put her flower garden, so he left them to their work.
As soon as he departed Maggie and Charlie got to work. The ground had been softened by a bit of rain last night, so getting the soil ready was an easy task. They’d been working a little over an hour when Henny rode up.
Charlie groused as she walked up, “What do you want?”
“I’d like to talk with Maggie if I might.”
Maggie stopped what she was doing and wiped at the perspiration on her brow. Henny looked distastefully at her dirty clothing and face but Maggie was too happy about putting in her garden to be intimidated by the opinion of a woman whose opinion didn’t matter. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve decided to have a dinner party to introduce you to the community.”
Maggie pushed the shovel into the dirt and turned the soil over. “I think that’s very nice of you.” Maggie wondered if Henny had come to terms with Ian’s marriage and was offering to host the gathering as an olive branch, or had something else in mind. Maggie thought it might be the latter. “When will this be?”
“On Saturday.”
That was only a few days away. “Isn’t that short notice?”
“No. People always drop whatever they have planned to attend my parties.”
Charlie was digging nearby and Maggie saw him roll his eyes.
“If Ian agrees, we’ll come.”
“Do you have something appropriate to wear? If not, I may have something you can borrow.”
In response to the condescending tone, Maggie bit down on her temper and asked, “How fancied up do I need to be?”
“Very fancy. My father lives in a very elegant home.”
“Then I’ll be sure to wash my feet.”
Charlie laughed out loud.
Maggie turned his way and asked innocently, “What’s so funny? Don’t people here wash their feet when they get gussied up?”
Charlie was bent over and there were tears of mirth in his eyes. She turned to Henny, who didn’t appear to find Maggie’s words funny at all. In fact she appeared to be slightly mortified. “What time should we arrive?”
“Six.”
“If Ian and I decide to come we’ll be there. If we don’t show, you’ll know we decided to stay at home.”
Henny’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not hosting this for you not to make an appearance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else? Charlie and I really need to have this done before the heat of the day arrives.”
“No.”
“Nice seeing you again.”
Henny apparently didn’t share the sentiment because without a word, she strode back to her horse, mounted up, and rode away.
Watching her disappear, the pleased Maggie asked Charlie, “How’d I do?”
“Superb, madam. Simply superb.”
Later, after stopping for lunch, they were just getting back to work when Maggie saw a wagon rolling towards the house. “Who’s that?” she asked Charlie.
He looked out at the nearing vehicle and smiled. “Little Dove and her boy, David.”
“Little Dove? Is she Native?”
He nodded. “Arapaho. They live on the far edge of your land.”
Maggie was surprised to hear herself referred to as a landowner but she supposed she was. The wagon neared and Maggie got a clearer view of the woman holding the reins. She looked to be about Maggie’s age and the boy no more than seven or so. Both had the silky black hair most Natives were blessed with. Little Dove wore hers unfettered down her back and David sported the familiar bowl cut. She was wearing a man’s dun-colored shirt and her son one of red plaid flannel. “Please don’t tell me she’s one of the remuda.”
“She isn’t. She’s a friend.”
“Hello, Charlie. How are you?” Little Dove asked while getting off the wagon. She held her son’s hand so he could jump down to the ground. Once there he grinned up at her. The Arapaho woman glanced Maggie’s way and stopped with a look of mild surprise.
“Hello, I’m Maggie, Ian’s wife.”
Her surprise spread into a smile. “So, the Night Hawk has taken a wife. I’m Little Dove and this is David, my son. We’re very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Thank you. Hello, David. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” he replied shyly. He then turned to Charlie. “May I go and see Jack, Charlie?”
“Ask your mother first.”
He turned pleading eyes her way and she placed an affectionate hand on his hair. “Go, but just for a minute. We can’t stay long, and no pestering Smoke.”
“I won’t.”
Before he could run off, Charlie said, “Hold on, Davey. Let’s you and me find some carrots for Jack. We’ll let the womenfolk visit.”
They headed around to the back of the house.
“Would you like to come in?” Maggie asked. The woman was eyeing her with what appeared to be muted delight.
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
“Would like some cold water or lemonade?”
“No, but I appreciate the hospitality.”
They took seats in the front room. The bear head on the wall growled silently.
“May I ask why you call him Night Hawk?”
“When my husband and I left the reservation, we hid out in the mountains. Your husband would bring us food and supplies most times in the middle of the night. Like the night hawk of nature we rarely saw him, but he always seemed to know where to leave whatever he’d bring so we would find it.”
Maggie marveled at yet another aspect about Ian that she didn’t know. She wondered if she’d ever know all that he was.
“He’s a good friend. May I ask you a question now?”
“Of course.”
“Who are your people?”
“I’m Kaw on my mother’s side and Black on my father’s.”
“Kaw and Arapaho were enemies, but we can’t afford to hold on to the old grudges. I hope we can be friends.”
Maggie nodded. “I don’t know anyone here besides Ian and Charlie, so I’d like that.”
Then Little Dove leaned forward and asked with a twinkle in her black eyes, “Now that we’re friends, how
mad was Henny Benton when Night Hawk brought you home? I’m betting she could’ve bitten the head off a rattlesnake.”
Maggie fell back against the sofa laughing. Little Dove grinned. Maggie knew then and there that she was going to enjoy calling Little Dove friend.
Maggie enjoyed the visit. Because of their shared heritage and tribal experiences Maggie felt a deep connection to her. They talked about the ongoing predicaments faced by the Native tribes, and Little Dove’s experiences at Carlisle Institute, the Native boarding school in Pennsylvania.
“I enjoyed the learning,” she said, “but not the beatings we received to whip the Native out of us. In many ways the place was horrifying.”
Thanks to Maggie’s father, she’d been able to avoid the assimilation schools like Carlisle but many Native children and their families weren’t given a choice. “So does your son go to the school here?”
“What school?”
“Ian said there’s a school here. I’m supposed to lead the classes.”
“There’s no school, Maggie. Was he courting you at the time?”
Maggie thought back. “I suppose you could say that.”
“Then that explains it. Men will say anything when they find themselves in love.”
Maggie was no expert on men, but she thought that sounded like a fair reason. Ian had never gone out of his way to lie to her before. She’d talk to him and get it straightened out and then he was going to build her a school. “After Ian builds the school . . .”
Little Dove smiled and nodded knowingly. “It’s only fair, I think.”
“Will you send David?”
“Yes, I’m teaching him at home presently but a real schoolhouse would be wonderful.”
Then Little Dove had to go. Maggie noticed she hadn’t mentioned anything else about her husband or even his name. She found that curious but felt it would be rude to ask. Charlie and Ian would know so she saved her questions for them.
She walked her new friend to the door. “It’s been my pleasure meeting you.”