Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) (44 page)

BOOK: Jessie's War (Civil War Steam)
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A time when he’d
kissed her and she’d slept.

She had to get
him back. She had to get him and take him home. He shouldn’t be buried in some
anonymous grave on Shoshone land, even if they were her grandfather’s allies.
He should be buried in Virginia City, near his mother and hers.

Jessie would
lay him next to Gideon’s marker, brothers in the beginning and in the end. She
would buy a plot for herself and, when she died, she’d leave instructions for
her body to be taken to Virginia City and laid next to her husband.

She had to get
him back. Didn’t matter where he died. She’d dance him into the next life and
then take his body and bury it proper among her family, where he belonged. She
would dance for Luke and her mother and her brother, and do them the honor she
had long owed them.

Maybe her
ancestors would finally smile upon her. Maybe this time, when she asked, they’d
take her, too. Not leave her alone, as they had so often before.

She dressed in
her buckskin dress and trousers, and put her grandfather’s talisman around her
neck. She searched through Luke’s belongings for the money clip he’d had, and
found it stashed in one of the bags next to one of his black hats. It was more
than enough to get her a ticket to Logan and a room for several nights, if she
needed one.

She packed a
bag with just the essentials and put on her coat. Anything else she’d buy once
she got there. She lifted the hat to her face.

The scent of
desert rain and leather and man filled her nostrils, and she was suddenly
overwhelmed by the impression of him, of his eyes as they looked at her, of his
hands when they touched her, of the smile that lit the darkest places in her heart.

Luke.

Jessie pulled
the bag onto her shoulder and went into the sitting room to write a letter to
Elizabeth and Mordecai explaining her absence.

Just as she
found the gas lamp to light it, a voice asked, “Where you going, Missus?”

She jumped, and
turned to find Parker sitting in one of the scarlet brocade chairs, swirling
some amber liquid around in a glass, his expression melancholy.

“I’m going to
find my grandfather and get Luke back.” Her voice was hoarse, unused—but
then, she hadn’t spoken in weeks.

“He’s dead.”

Anguish rose in
the back of her throat, acidic and burning at the base of her tongue,
threatening to steal her voice again. “I know. But he needs to come home.”

“Your
grandfather’s dead too.”

She shook her
head, but her heart wasn’t surprised. Maybe she wasn’t capable of feeling
anything but grief anymore. “No, he’s not. We saw him when Luke—
no.
He was there.”

Parker cleared
his throat. “I can’t say what I saw. All I know is I’ve been hearing a lot
about this mysterious grandfather of yours, but when I asked Mr. White, he said
your grandfather died years ago. Right after that skirmish with the Union that
made him famous. According to him, your whole tribe died. Some mystery illness.”

“No, that’s not
true.” Gooseflesh dotted her arms as the temperature in the room began to drop.
“I would have been told. We used to visit him all the time.”

But only while
her mother was alive. Jessie had wondered why they hadn’t come when they’d
buried her mother, but she’d never asked.

When she
finally had thought to look for them, after her father’s disappearance, she’d
found no trace of them. Once they’d come for her, even she had to admit that
the tribe was different from how she remembered.

All this time,
they’d been gone, and she hadn’t known. For almost a year after the last
skirmish her tribe had had with the Union, her mother had taken Jessie and
Gideon to visit them. They’d gone to the winter hunting grounds, and her tribe
had been there. Different, even then, but they’d been there.

Her mother had
danced every time they’d visited, and it had been so cold.

It simply
couldn’t be true. She would have known.

Panic rushed
through her. “He married Luke and me. He came for Luke and he’s the one who
took him.
You saw him
.”

“What I saw…”
Swirling his drink, he watched as the liquid trail down the sides of the glass.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “What I saw scared the hell out of me. I
can’t sleep for thinking of it.” He handed her some papers. “I did some
checking. It wasn’t released to the public, but your father’s right. Your tribe
is dead. As far as I can tell, you’re the last.”

“I would have
been told,” Jessie said, but her protest fell flat.

Parker
shrugged.

“Did they look
dead to you?”

He cleared his
throat again. “No. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know.” He looked away for a long time. “What
happened wasn’t right.”

“I know.”

He threw back
his head, downed his drink in a single swallow, and poured himself another. “I
can’t forget it. I want to, because maybe then I could feel normal again, but I
can’t. I let them take Luke. I never should have done that.” His eyes met
Jessie’s. “Luke would’ve wanted you with him. I should’ve let you go. Don’t
know why I didn’t. When the one told me to keep you there, I obeyed without
thought, and I don’t know
why
.” He
swallowed the remainder of his drink. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes and swiftly
added, “Pardon.”

She watched him
for a moment, and she didn’t make a move to open the papers Parker had handed
to her. She didn’t need to see what they contained. It didn’t matter.

“I’m going,”
Jessie said. “Tell Mr. and Mrs. Jameson I’ll be fine, will you?”

Parker snorted.
“You’re not going. The Shoshone still work for the Rebs.”

She squared her
shoulders. “They won’t do anything to me.”

“You can’t know
that. The Confederacy is still looking for you. We should have moved you when
your father left, made you go with him.”

“But you didn’t.”

He sliced his
head to the left. “Nope. Being honest, I thought you’d kill yourself if we
tried to move you. I’m surprised you didn’t try.”

The corner of
her mouth twitched into what would have been a smile if she were capable of it.
“Just because I want to die doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything to hasten my
death.” Jessie pushed her grief down, down into the darkness where she kept her
memories. She wasn’t exactly lying to him, but she wasn’t telling the whole
truth, either.

“If this last
month is any indication, Bradshaw got off damn light by dying.” Parker paused. “I
promised him I’d take care of you, you know.”

“I know.”

“I can’t let
you go.”

“I’m not asking.
I’m gonna find my tribe and get Luke back.”

“Your tribe is
dead,” Parker countered.

“Doesn’t
matter. My tribe will be there.”

“Maybe that’s
what I’m afraid of.”

“No one says
you have to go,” she said.

He stood up. “You
can’t think I’m going to let Luke’s woman run off into hostile territory by
herself. There are Confederates looking for you, the Shoshone are our enemies,
and you want to go claim Luke’s body, which was taken by a tribe of
dead people
. That’s fucking wrong.” He
shook his head. “Pardon. Head’s not on straight.”

Jessie walked
up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched.

“You don’t have
to come with me,” she told him. “I’m not asking you to.”

He stared into
the empty space behind her head for a long time. “There’s no reason for you to
go, Missus.”

“I’m getting
Luke back, and I’m taking him home.”

He motioned to
some pictures on the chair. “When we got back, it was all I could think about.
We don’t leave our men behind, but that’s what I forced you to do. That’s what
I
did. I let them take him, and I
shouldn’t have. We don’t leave a brother behind.”

They regarded
one another for several seconds, and then he picked up the pictures. Taking her
hand, he led her to the table where he spread the pictures out in front of her.

“I had Duchess
run some reconnaissance over the last few weeks. Look.”

He opened a
folded piece of paper, which detailed the blur of the photographs. The drawing
showed hills and mountains, valleys and rivers. A small town and a farmstead or
two. That was all.

“What is this?”
Jessie asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“I can see
that. Why am I looking at it?”

Parker moved
the photographs around. “They’re gone. The Shoshone are gone. Duchess did the
maps herself, and she’s the best there is. There aren’t any shadows to show
they’re there.”

“They’re not
gone.” She studied the map, then flipped through the photographs, trying to
decipher something that wasn’t there in the blur.

“No trace of
them.” He pointed to the artist’s maps. “Look, there’s the mine where your
father was kept. You see them?”

As a matter of
fact, she did not. She didn’t see traces of the Shoshone anywhere.

“I had them do
grid patterns for hundreds of miles,” Parker said, shaking his head. “They’re
gone. I even went to Logan myself, where I heard rumors of a camp, but no one’s
seen them. Talked to some men who work for Deseret—they didn’t know
anything about a tribe in that location, and the other tribes in northern Utah
have been in the same areas for months. They’re gone like they never even
existed.”

Parker cleared
his throat noisily. “Hell, maybe they didn’t.”

Jessie sat down
heavily and rested her head in her hands. She was too tired to cry. The only
reason she even got out of bed was because she was determined to get Luke back,
and now the people who had him were gone.

It was like she
lost him all over again.

“What am I
supposed to do?”

Parker threw
himself into the chair next to her. “Let me take you to Chicago with your
father. Bradshaw has a place there—it’s yours now.” He dug into the
breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out another set of papers and a set of
keys. “We all signed papers saying you’re his wife. He wanted you to have it.”

Jessie turned
the keys over in her hands. “Looks like you’ve thought of everything.”

“Least I could
do. He was my friend.” He covered her hand with his. “He wouldn’t want you to
run off on a wild goose chase searching for his body. You want to place a
marker here or in Virginia City for him, then do that. Mourn him however you
need to. You don’t need his body. But come with me to Chicago, where you’ll be
safe.” As he moved to leave the room, he pulled something else from his pocket
and put it on the table. “Think about it, will you?”

In front of her
he’d placed a first-class ticket to Springfield, Illinois, the closest airship station
to Chicago. It was booked for the next day.

Her name was on
that ticket.

She stood up
and paced. Went back and picked up the ticket. Looked out the window and
watched the moon for a moment.

Jessie, the
voices whispered.
Come.

Mourn him however you need to
, Parker’s voice rang in her ears.
You don’t need his body.

She wondered if
it were true.

What if she
didn’t need Luke’s body to dance him to the other side? What if all she needed
was
her
?

The voices in
her head became restless.

Jessie,
they whispered.
Outside.
Come.

For a change,
she did as she was told.

The cold and
the dark surrounded her, and gossamer clouds passed over the moon. She heard
her ancestors’ voices in the wind as it rustled through the trees. She heard
their hearts in the beating of distant drums. She saw their forms shifting
among the shadows, and their eyes in the face of the moon.

She had seen
them and heard them for years, but for the first time, she wasn’t afraid. This
time, she didn’t turn away.

This time,
Jessie embraced them.

They didn’t ask
for what she did next.

She began to
dance.

She danced for
her ancestors, the long departed dead. She danced for her mother and her
brother, as she hadn’t before. She danced for her grandfather and her tribe.

She danced for
Luke.

The gossamer
clouds thickened, swirling around her as her ancestors walked with her. They
took their forms in the mist, surrounding her, touching her with diaphanous
hands, welcoming her to the home she had long denied. Welcoming her back among
her ancestors and her people.

As their
ancient song washed over her, they danced with her, and she danced with them.
She danced until her legs shook and her body started to fail. Until her heart
beat so frantically she thought it would burn up and turn to ash.

She was ready.

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