Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical
Elizabeth, who had been trying so desperately to
control her hilarity in light of Cutter’s brooding expression, suddenly burst
out laughing again.
Hauling roughly on the reins, and making an
immediate turnabout, Cutter gave Elizabeth his most lethal scowl, though it
didn’t seem to faze her in the least. “We’re taking the train,” he barked.
At that declaration, Elizabeth shrieked all the
louder.
“So how long you reckon they’ve been gone?”
Still stunned by all that had been disclosed to
him, Elias, his complexion pasty, only shrugged and shook his head feebly. He
stared blankly at the half crumpled dispatch in his hands and read the
signature at the bottom of the page for the fourth time: Brigadier General
Alfred Sully. And then he ground his teeth as his eyes returned to skim the
message above one last time. It read simply:
C MCKENZIE TO REPORT TO BRIGADIER GENERAL A SULLY,
ASAP RE: ABSENTEEISM WITHOUT LEAVE WILL CONSIDER LENIENCY IN RETURN FOR
ASSISTANCE
“Desertion?” Miss Mimi repeated once again, her
lips trembling and her hand going to her mouth in alarm. A watery sheen
appeared in her eyes as she looked to Elias and then back to the lieutenant
seated atop the U.S. Army-earmarked stallion. “I—I don’t know—but it
couldn’t have been more than two hours ago. Are you certain he’s dangerous?”
Lieutenant Magnus Sulzberger shook his head in a
gesture of frustration that was far from feigned. Colyer had caught up with him
a couple of days earlier with the dispatch while he and O’Neill had been hot on
the trail of the renegade Indians. Setting eyes on that sweet little document
had made his day, and he’d gladly left off the chase for the greater gain.
Only, by the time they’d returned to where that half-breed McKenzie had set up
camp, he and the woman had already pulled up stakes. From there, he and his men
had come straight to the Bass spread, as was Colyer’s initial directive, only
to find that, once again, they’d been thwarted.
But he wasn’t going to let it go.
He might have: if General Sully weren’t looking
for McKenzie; if Doolittle, the head of the Senate Committee on Indian Affairs,
weren’t determined to roll some heads; if McKenzie hadn’t heaped accusations
his way before walking out on his position; and finally, but most auspiciously,
if Sully hadn’t sent a man who hated this particular breed as much as Magnus
did to slap a golden opportunity into his waiting hands.
He might have let it go.
But Sully had sent Colyer with the dispatch. And
it was just a matter of time before Sully caught up with McKenzie. As far as
Magnus was concerned, it wasn’t gonna happen. If Sully intended to campaign
into the Dakotas, he was gonna require Cutter McKenzie’s services. Without it,
he wasn’t going to find the first hostile. And because of that, there wasn’t
much of a chance Sully would give up. Sully needed McKenzie, and he’d find him,
come hell or high water.
Thing was, as Magnus saw it, Sully’s bluff wasn’t
going to work, anyhow. Furious as McKenzie was about Sand Creek, there was no
chance he was gonna give his assist—damned redskin-lovin’ breed! The only
thing McKenzie was likely to do was nose into ongoing
investigations—three of them if the rumors Magnus had heard were correct;
two by Congress and one by the military commission. And by damn, if they were
looking for someone to court-martial, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him!
He’d done nothing more at Sand Creek than the others had... and McKenzie wasn’t
going to live to testify otherwise.
Unknowingly, Sully had seen to that.
Though most folks felt that McKenzie was at least
a moral deserter, he, in fact, wasn’t a deserter at all. His argument with
Sully had been over the fact that, because of the massacre at Sand Creek,
McKenzie wouldn’t renew his commission. Magnus was aware of that fact—but
the document in Elias Bass’ hand implied otherwise, and that was good enough
for Magnus. Wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t applaud him for shooting a
deserter... even if it did happen to be in the back—most especially if he
was a breed.
“Ma’am...” Magnus sighed for emphasis, while he
adjusted the wad of tobacco in his mouth. “Look, I can see why you’d be
disinclined to believe me. Your granddaughter’s safety is at stake here... but
I’m more’n sure—I’m damned sure!” Impulsively he looked over his shoulder
at the two men waiting silently at his flank. He waved the fairest of the two
forward. “Why don’t you ask Colyer here about his ear?” Scratching at his
beard, he watched the expression on the old woman’s face intently as the man he
called Colyer nudged his horse forward and raised the hair away from his bad
ear, relishing her revulsion at seeing only half an ear where there should have
been a whole.
The animosity in Colyer’s icy green eyes
completely negated his boyish good looks, prompting Miss Mimi to take a step
backward. “He slashed m’ ear, ma’am,” the young man said without emotion.
“Without any provocation at all.” His eyes narrowed, spilling hate, though he
tried to conceal it. “Scariest sight y’ ever saw. McKenzie was sane as you or I
one minute, and the next—”
Magnus spat the wad of tobacco out of his mouth
suddenly. “That’s enough, Colyer,” he said. “Can’t you see the old woman’s
fainthearted already? Can’t take hearing the rest.” He made a dismissing motion
with his head, and Colyer immediately fell back again to wait with O’Neill.
As was intended, Miss Mimi looked ready to swoon.
With a pained expression, she turned, clutching at Elias’ arm. “Oh, Elias,” she
moaned. “What have we done?”
His face turning white, Elias straightened to his
full height and took Miss Mimi’s hand into his own, bringing it to his lips.
His anger was apparent in every taut line of his face. “We did what we thought
best, Mimi. There was no reason not to trust them,” he reminded.
Miss Mimi nodded, her expression pained.
With a nod, Elias released her hand and turned to
face the lieutenant, nervous perspiration beading on his upper lip. “If
McKenzie’s so dangerous,” he charged, “Then what the hell took you so long to
get here? Dammit—I wired Sully about him as soon as I heard he and his
wife were on their way.”
Magnus lifted a brow. “Don’t know who the woman
is,” he interjected, “but she ain’t his wife.”
Miss Mimi choked at his disclosure, her fingers
going to her throat, but Elias spared her only a glance in his concern for
Katie. “She’s Elizabeth Me—hell, I dunno her blamed name—reckon
it’s Bowcock if not McKenzie. She’s my daughter-in-law’s sister!”
Magnus lifted the other brow. “You sure about
that, Mr. Bass?”
“Course I’m sure,” Elias countered. “Damn you
people! Was I informed back then that McKenzie was any army deserter? Hell no!
Damn me, too, for not looking into it further! Christ—don’t give a hoot
about the half-breed part, but that’s all you people bothered to reply about!”
He waved the paper up at Magnus in outrage.
Magnus nosed his mount closer to the old man and
woman, snatching the document from Elias’ hand. “Now, now,” he said, his tone
patronizing. He leaned forward in the saddle with intimidating slowness. “Don’t
reckon you ought to be takin’ that tone with me, Mr. Bass. We came as quick as
we were able.” He glanced back at his men, then again to Elias. “You’re the
ones who trusted that roughneck savage with your grandkid,” he took great
pleasure in reminding them. “Not us.” His lip curled suddenly. “And if you
already knew that much about ‘im, Mr. Bass, then you should’ve considered
yourself forewarned. Breeds are breeds are breeds. They ain’t no different from
the full-blooded bucks! Every one of them savages’ll lift your scalp in the
blink of an eye.”
The veins in Elias’ temple stood out as he shook
his head in rebuttal. “No, sir, Lieutenant Sulzberger,” Elias countered, “I’ve
known my share of half-breeds, and that just ain’t true. But it doesn’t
matter—that’s my granddaughter we’re talking about. If what you say about
McKenzie is the truth, then instead of sitting here jawing, you ought to be out
there searching for her.”
Magnus’ eyes glittered with open contempt now.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Bass,” he agreed. “We should be. I reckon that’s why you ought
to be tellin’ us where they’re headed.”
Miss Mimi started to sob in earnest. “Elias,” she
pleaded, her voice breaking. “We can’t risk leaving Katie with them.”
Elias gave her a look of intense frustration
before glancing back to the lieutenant. He considered himself a good judge of
character, and the picture Sulzberger was painting just didn’t ring true.
Still, he couldn’t take chances, couldn’t risk his granddaughter. And the man
did have his papers—from General Sully, no less. He eyed the document
with revulsion. He’d just never figured Cutter McKenzie for a
deserter—or, for that matter, Elizabeth for a liar. “Sioux Falls,” he
snapped out. “But I’m coming with you! Just let me go in and get my gun.”
Ignoring his declaration, Magnus surged upward.
Standing in his stirrups, he waved his men ahead with an eagerness that sent a
chill down Elias’ spine. “You heard ‘im, boys! Burn the breeze! Fulton
City—in case they decided to take the Gulf. And you, sir,” he barked, his
head snapping back to Elias, “aren’t going anywhere.” His eyes were
intimidating in their brilliance. “This is army business, sir, and you’ll just
stay put.” He tipped his hat in a mock gesture of respect. “We’ll get back to
you real soon.” Having imparted that, he slammed himself down into his saddle,
driving the full force of his brass heels into his mount’s belly.
His expression screwing with suspicion, Elias
watched the lieutenant sprint after and catch up to his men. All three suddenly
threw victorious punches into the air, and then one of them, the one called
Colyer, unsheathed a rifle and held it high, discharging it once while the
others whooped.
“Mimi,” he said ominously as he continued to
watch, “something ain’t right here.” And there wasn’t. All three seemed to take
an unnatural enthusiasm in their appointed task. He turned toward the house,
springing into a run, intending to get his rifle. “I’m going after ‘em,” he
called out. “Either way, Katie’s gonna need me.”
Distracted
by the unusually thick crowd milling around the platform, Elizabeth looked
around her and reasoned that the throng awaiting to board the train might be a
result of the recent end to the war. The station was teeming with Union
soldiers who were evidently still trying to get home. A small group of
uniformed men caught her eye, as she noticed them laughing at something farther
down the track. Following their gazes, Elizabeth spotted a plump man, red in
the face, trying desperately to shove his cow into one of the compartments. She
smiled and then, turning her attention to Cutter who stood beside her, she
found him watching her intently.
Feeling
like a ninny, Elizabeth stood, her fingers intertwined with Katie’s as she and
Cutter simply stared at each other. Strange that, after being together almost
every waking moment, this brief separation felt like good-bye.
But
it wasn’t, she reminded herself.
“So...
we’ll see you on the train?” she said, more for her own benefit than for
Katie’s. A faint light twinkled in the depths of Cutter’s black eyes, as though
he knew her thoughts. Flustered by it, she averted her gaze, glancing down at
Katie.
As
though by cue, Cocoa nickered impatiently, saving Elizabeth from an
embarrassing moment.
Cutter
chuckled at her look of relief, glancing over his shoulder at the querulous
Cayuse. “Keep your shirt on, Brownie,” he muttered.
Katie
burst into giggles at his ridiculous remark, and Elizabeth gave him a
narrow-eyed look. He was teasing her, she realized—affectionately, not
maliciously—and she found herself smiling against her will. “Cocoa,” she
corrected. Amazing, she thought, how that causal wit of his had once annoyed
her so much, because now she found she enjoyed the sparring
immensely—though she’d never actually admit it.