Beneath a Dakota Cross (22 page)

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Authors: Stephen A. Bly

BOOK: Beneath a Dakota Cross
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“You're taking our guns,” the man whined.

“I'm leaving you one revolver with five bullets, right over there on that chunk of firewood. Whoever gets untied first can claim the gun.”

“What if the Indians show up? We need more bullets than five.”

“Why? There's only five of you,” Big River snarled. “If you use 'em right, you'll all be dead before they scalp you.”

“Chances are the gut-shot man won't last 'til mornin', and Kabyo . . .” Brazos swung up into the lead wagon. “Well, I reckon one of you better grab that gun before he wakes up. He's the type to shoot the rest of you, for sure.”

The wind died down about sunset. The storm lifted, and a few stars could be seen in the night sky. A bit of light reflected a glowing trail off the snow. Brazos and Todd sat close together, a buffalo robe stretched across their laps, a wool blanket across their shoulders.

“I'm mighty glad you came to visit, Son. I was kind of hopin' you'd come up, but didn't have the right to ask you.”

“Spending Christmas in Texas with my whole family gone didn't sound too joyous,” Todd replied.

“Things are changin'. My future's up here, somewhere. You're twenty-seven years old . . .”

“Twenty-eight, Dad.”

“No, I was twenty-one when you were born, and I'm . . .”

“You'll be fifty next month.”

A sharp pain cramped his right shoulder blade. Brazos tried to stretch it out. “The point is, you've got to make your own decisions. But if you had a hankerin' to move to the Black Hills, we've got a couple of claims to work, plus it looks like we're going to be in the hardware business for a while. You and Robert have seen what this trail's like. Not many will chance freighting it, until the Indian land opens up. In the meantime, it's a mighty good but dangerous business. You could make yourself a sizable stake.”

“You going to keep running freight all winter?” Todd asked.

“Whenever there's a break in the weather. It's actually easier to get a wagon into town when the roads are frozen.”

Todd folded his arms across his chest. “I don't have any permanent plans this winter. Maybe I should stick around and help out . . . at least 'til spring.”

The pain in Brazos's back lessened. He allowed himself a small smile.

‘Fortune & Son, Hardware and Mining Supplies'. That's got a nice sound to it.”

“I didn't say I'd stay more than a season,” Todd cautioned.

“Neither did I, Son. Neither did I.” Brazos slapped the reins on the rump of the draft horse. “Wait until I tell li'l sis.”

“I heard everything,” a small voice filtered up from the back of the wagon.

“Won't it be nice to have big brother around for a while?”

“If he promises not to tease me.”

“No such promise, Dacee June,” Todd laughed. “It's my God-given duty as the firstborn to make sure all the others are properly harassed.”

“And it's my God-given duty as the baby of the family to be spoiled. You remember that,” she lectured.

“None of us will have trouble remembering that,” Brazos added.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Did Robert hear this conversation, too?”

“I don't think so,” Dacee June reported. “He and Jamie Sue are busy.”

“Busy with what?” Brazos blurted out.

“How would I know? They're way at the back of the wagon, behind some logs, hiding under a blanket.”

“Doin' what?” Brazos pressed.

“Relax, Dad,” Todd cautioned. “Little brother is twenty-two. I can assure you he knows exactly what he's doing.”

Brazos glanced back at the wagon. “How about you, Mr. Dentist? Are you survivin' this cold?”

“I think he went to sleep,” Dacee June called out.

“You ought to hear him talk,” Todd laughed. “He's got this scheme for getting rich by inventing a new tooth powder.”

“Tooth powder?” Brazos chuckled. “What's wrong with plain old bakin' soda?”

“Oh, he says he's about to come up with a product that will eliminate bad teeth within our lifetime.”

“A good pair of pliers and a few yanks can do that.”

“He knows a lot about teeth,” Todd responded.

“He should have a lot of business in Deadwood.”

“Who's singing back there?” Todd asked.

“Quiet Jim,” Brazos replied.

Todd's breath fogged in front of him. “It's a peaceful song.”

“If we weren't freezing to death, it would be a mighty peaceful evening.” The lunge of the wagon rolling over a boulder caused Brazos to reseat himself.

Todd reached over with a strong, gloved hand and squeezed Brazos's shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

Brazos pulled off his spectacles, roughly rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Merry Christmas, Todd.” He reset his spectacles, then squinted at the snowy, nighttime trail.
Sarah Ruth, I've got three out of four with me tonight. That's a lot better than I figured when the day began. Lord, look after Samuel. May he remember whose birthday this is, no matter where he might be tonight.

As they started the incline into the Black Hills at the northern slope of Crook's Mountain, the wind drift carried Quiet Jim's voice to the first wagon with increased clarity. Brazos found himself humming along.

How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given.

So God imparts to human hearts the blessing of His heaven.

No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“How do I look, Daddy? Isn't my hair beautiful? I like having flowers in my hair. Do you think I'm pretty? Jamie Sue is so beautiful. Someday, perhaps I'll be quite fetching. I'm sort of fetching now. But I'd like to be quite fetching. Maybe I should put flowers in my hair everyday. My new shoes hurt my feet, but they make me look taller. I wish I'd grow more. Do you think I'll be taller when I get older? I certainly hope so. I think perhaps I'd look more mature if I wore lip rouge. I don't know why you won't let me wear any. Columbia Torington said she wore lip rouge when she was only eleven. Of course I won't really look mature until I . . . eh, you know . . . fill out more.

“I hope I remember what I'm supposed to do. Do you think lots of people will be there? This just might be the most exciting day of my entire life. Daddy, I'm so glad you let me come to Deadwood and live with you. Every day is an adventure! Someday I'm going to have a great big wedding, just like Jamie Sue. Except I want it to be in a church. We will have a church in Deadwood someday, won't we? And I want Todd and Robert and Samuel to be groomsmen, and you will walk me down the aisle. Maybe you could wear a top hat. Would you wear a top hat for me? Please! And everyone in town will be there.

“Everyone I know is going to be at the wedding today. I certainly hope Carty Toluca isn't there! I'll punch him in the nose if he is. Are you nervous, Daddy? I think, maybe, I'm a little nervous.”

Brazos held on to Dacee June's shoulders and slowly turned her around. The lavender dress with white lace at the collar, cuffs, and hem seemed to bring out the smoothness of her complexion and the sparkle in her blue eyes. Her long, light brown hair was neatly pinned to the back of her head, her round, straw hat cocked slightly to the back, a white lace ribbon trailed down her back.

Sarah Ruth, our baby is growin' up, darlin'. She's right. Someday she will get married. It will certainly be a bitter sweet day.

“Daddy, did you hear me? I asked if you were nervous.”

“Darlin', there's only one thing that I'm nervous about.”

“What? It's the shoes, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have bought these shoes. I know I'm awkward, aren't I? Jamie Sue was going to show me how to walk in them, but she's sort of busy. Do my shoes make you nervous? They certainly make me nervous.”

“No, it's not the shoes,” Brazos insisted.

“What is it?”

“I'm afraid you are just going to confuse a lot of the young men at the wedding. You look so pretty, they are all going to think you're the bride.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Dacee June raised her chin, strutted across the room, then twirled back towards him. “I won't be getting married for four or five years.”

“I'm certainly relieved to hear that.”

“Daddy, can I go over to the hotel and see Robert? I want to see if he's nervous.”

“Go on, darlin'. But don't get dirty crossin' the street. It's dusty today.”

“Oh, I won't. Jamie Sue taught me how proper ladies cross the street. I'm supposed to keep shoulders back, head level with the ground, parasol slowly twirling, and smile, and stroll with my hips sort of leading the way.”

“She told you all that?”

“Some of it I just learned on my own.”

As far as I'm concerned, you can put on your old shoes and run across the street like a little girl.
“I need you back here by 11:30.”

“What time is it, now?”

Brazos pulled the gold-chained pocket watch from his vest pocket. “Almost 10:30.”

“Bye!” She strutted out of the room and down the hall.

Brazos strode to the street-side window, the leather heels of his new boots striking the wooden floor with authority.

No spurs. I don't know if I'll get used to boots without spurs. Brazos Fortune, what are you doin' here?

He stopped in front of a full-length mirror, tilted it a little higher, then stepped back.

The man in the mirror frowned.

Hair's cut. Half-gray beard's trimmed. New spectacles sit high on that crooked nose. Eyes surrounded by crow's feet and look tired . . . as always.

You got a new wool suit.

Silver-buttoned vest.

Stylish tie.

You're a mine owner. A businessman. A community leader.

My word, Sarah Ruth, I can't even see me anymore. Whatever happened to your Texas drover?

A wide smile broke across his narrow, chapped lips.

You'd love this. You were always tryin' to get me to dress up. You were forever buyin' me ties that I never wore, pointing out suits that I would never buy. Well, here I am, darlin', just as handsome as ever.

That's what you always used to say. “Henry, you're just as handsome as ever.” Which, I always recklessly assumed, was a compliment. You brought out the best in me, darlin'. Dacee June has taken on that role, and by the looks of the man in the mirror, she's doin' fairly good . . . at least on the outside.

The frown returned, and Brazos abandoned the silver-plated reflection. He sauntered towards the window facing Main Street.

How I miss you, Sarah Ruth. I've been dreadin' this day for a month. A weddin' is supposed to be a joyous, happy time. Ever'one smilin', jokin', laughin'. There are no failures on a weddin' day. Potential is overflowin'. Plans abound. Possibilities are unlimited. You ought to be here.

I need you, Sarah Ruth.

I just want to sit in the corner and watch as you waltz around through the crowd as the queen mother.

Brazos brushed the tears from his eyes.

It don't seem right that you didn't get to see a one of them married. Now, I know you can probably see things from up there, but what with all that praise and them choirs of angels, I reckon you get distracted.

Well, darlin', they make a handsome couple.

The truth is, they're a solid gold couple. That Jamie Sue can make most men's hearts stop still with just a glance. And Robert? He takes after his mamma, of course. He walks into a room, and all the ladies find an excuse to flitter his way.

They're a lot alike, Sarah Ruth.

Decisive, principled, thoughtful, and strong-willed.

Maybe just a little too alike.

In the street below the window he watched as a string of freight wagons plodded past the store. Diagonally across the street, he surveyed the front of the Central Hotel, which advertised “French Restaurant: Meals at All Hours, Day and Night.” Several drifters in ill-fitting suits lounged on a bench in front of the hotel. The balcony of the hotel was draped in red, white, and blue bunting.

There's a celebration going on today, Sarah Ruth. And I'm not going to be melancholy anymore. At least, not until the service and I start rememberin' our weddin' day.

Brazos plucked up the black, wide-brimmed hat and carefully set it on his head.

I know, Sarah Ruth, you're thinkin' that I should be wearin' a silk top hat. Dacee June tried her best. I just couldn't . . . I tried one on. Made me look more like a cast-iron stove with a short stack than the father of the groom. 'Course you would've told me it made your heart flutter, and I would have bought the fool thing, no matter how silly it looked.

It's been a long, long time since I made a woman's heart flutter.

“Daddy . . . Daddy!” A breathless Dacee June scooted into the room, her straw hat now tilted to the side. “There's a preacher downstairs who wants to talk with you about the wedding.”

Brazos glanced at his gold pocket watch. “Wouldn't he rather talk to Robert?”

“Yes, but I can't find Robert or Todd anywhere! Where did they go?”

“Probably for a walk.” Brazos strolled towards the door. “I'll see the chaplain.”

“He's not the chaplain.” Dacee June slid to his side. “What do you mean for a walk? Why did they go for a walk?”

“To sort things out.” Brazos glanced down at the Sharps carbine leaning against the doorjamb. “What do you mean, he's not a chaplain?”

“Mr. Edwards said Robert got word that the chaplain from Fort Lincoln couldn't make it. I think Robert was kind of upset. But then, the Lord brought this preacher to town. Robert asked him to do the service, but now Robert's gone. Preacher Smith came up from Custer City with Captain Garner's freight train.” She slipped her arm into his. “What are Robert and Todd talking about?”

Brazos gently rubbed the small of her back. “Robert's trying to get up the courage to go ahead with the wedding.”
Do I need to take my carbine? Will it seem strange to take it . . . or reckless to leave it?
“This Preacher Smith . . . what kind of preacher is he?”

“I don't know. He's kind of old, though.” She slipped her soft, warm fingers into his large, calloused ones. “What do you mean, Robert's getting the courage to go ahead with the wedding? This is his wedding day. He has to go ahead with the wedding!”

“Right about now, Robert's havin' a tough time keepin' his knees from shakin'. It's finally dawned on him that he doesn't have any idea what he's gettin' into.” Brazos squeezed her hand. “How old is this Preacher Smith?”

With the tall shoes, Dacee June came up to Brazos's chin. “He looks about as old as you, Daddy. Did you go for a long walk before you and Mamma got married?”

“I went for a long horseback ride.” Brazos could smell the sweet aroma of her lilac perfume. “Old as me? Well, I better hobble down and say hello. Perhaps he'd like to borrow one of my canes!”

“Daddy, that's not what I meant. You are very distinguished looking all dressed up and don't look a day over forty-five. The March sisters told me so.” She dropped her hand out of his. “How old are the March sisters?”

“That, young lady, is none of your business.”

“Daddy, when did you decide to ride back to the church and marry Mamma?”

“When her father and brother rode out after me with shotguns.”

Dacee June's eyes grew wide. “Really?”

Brazos gave her a hug and laughed. “No, I'm teasin'. But not about the ride. Sometimes a man needs to take some quiet and think through what he's about to commit himself to. That's all. Let's go meet this decrepit old preacher and see if he can do the wedding. If you'll just give me your arm and help me shuffle down the stairs.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I'll race you down the stairs!”

Thank you, Lord. She hasn't lost all of the little girl yet.

Main Street in Deadwood City, Dakota Territory, was a wide avenue of mud or swirling dust, depending on the season. A mild, mostly sunny spring had brought the dust season early.

It had also brought thousands of gold seekers.

Most every mining claim along Whitewood, Deadwood, and adjoining creeks had been taken by February. By June, most had been sold a time or two, or more. The street was lined with log cabins, a few clapboard-sided houses, a half-dozen two-story buildings, and a good number of tent-walled establishments.

That was the substantial side of town.

On the outskirts were tents, lean-tos, brush shelters, and any other domicile that would house a disillusioned gold seeker.

With a long, dark beard covering the lower portion of his middle-aged face, Preacher Smith had the look of a seasoned Methodist circuit rider. He stood at the front of a packed ballroom at the Central Hotel. Of the three hundred plus in attendance, only thirty were females, most of whom lived on the respectable side of town.

Jamie Sue was ushered down the aisle by her brother, Vincent Milan. Todd Fortune served as best man for his youngest brother. An exuberant Dacee June Fortune, balanced precariously on her tiptoes, stood up as maid of honor.

Thelma Speaker played the little pump organ.

Quiet Jim sang “The Lord's Prayer” and “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,” mostly
a cappella.

Preacher Smith prayed.

Jamie Sue and Robert vowed.

The March sisters cried.

Brazos loomed in the front row of the congregation, his hands folded in front of him, hat in hand, head bowed. His Sharps carbine lay on the polished wooden floor at his feet.

No one sat down. They couldn't. There were no chairs in the room. There weren't enough chairs in all of Deadwood City for the crowd.

Then the new bride and groom kissed.

Dacee June giggled.

Thelma March Speaker played a semblance of the “Doxology.”

Then everyone gave their shout of approval.

After the wedding, the crowd drifted back and forth between the street and the ballroom. It was nearly dark when Brazos got an opportunity to talk to Robert. “I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow.”

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