The Rider of Phantom Canyon (19 page)

She smiled and walked slowly down the hallway and around the corner.

Joshua felt bad for her and did not know how he should have answered her. He knew he was not ever going to see her again. They had been through a lot together, but she now lived the life of a wealthy woman in Chicago. He had to concentrate on getting better and stronger. He still had unfinished business with Victoria Clinton and her gunmen.

Joshua visited with Wednesday most of the next day, and she seemed like she was normal except for still
needing to gain strength. She seemed somewhat withdrawn from him. He did not understand, but he also grinned, knowing he would never understand women.

The next day, they ate together, and they spoke.

Strongheart said, “It is hard for you among the
wasicun
?”

“No,” she said. “It is easy. I am learning to speak American. I mean English. And learning many things about the
wasicun
.”

He said, “The past two days you have been different, like you are far away. What troubles your heart?”

The beauty replied, “Who was that pretty woman who came to see you?”

“Oh,” he said, realizing she must have seen them in the hallway, or maybe had even seen her kissing him.

He said, “Her name is Brenna, and she lives very far away in a city like this one called Chicago.”

Wednesday said, “On the big lake.”

He said, “You are learning a lot.

“She is my friend,” he said. “She came to see me because she heard I was hurt.”

Wednesday said, “Zach is your friend, but I did not see you kiss him.”

Strongheart chuckled, and his face reddened.

He said, “She is my close friend. She has counted coup with me. She is a good woman.”

“Is she your woman?”

“No, she is not,” he said. “She loves me, but I am not in love with her. I am very confused right now.”

Wednesday was very relieved when she heard his answer.

She said, “Your heart is not thinking about love right now. Your heart only thinks about Victoria and her bad men. You should just think of that right now, and your heart will tell you when it wants to talk of love.”

He grinned, and then chuckled. She was right.

Two days later, Lucky appeared at Joshua's door and soon met Wednesday. Strongheart told him the story about them being cousins for so many years and then finding out that she was actually not related to him and was the daughter of Crazy Horse.

Lucky said, “Young lady, do you realize how fortunate you are?”

Wednesday liked this man.

“What do you mean,
fortunate
?” she asked.

“How lucky you are. . . . How honored you are,” he responded.

She turned to Joshua for help, saying,
“Owákahniğe Å¡ni,”
which meant, “I don't understand.”

The handsome half-breed smiled and said, “You are like a queen because you are the daughter of Crazy Horse. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but he is the enemy of the
wasicun
?” she said.

Lucky commented, “But he is famous. He was a hero . . . a mighty warrior of your people. Not all white men hate the Indians.”

She smiled and said, “Not all red people hate the white people.”

Later, Strongheart and Lucky walked outside the hospital and talked.

Lucky said, “Joshua, Allan Pinkerton despised Robert Hartwell, too. This woman, this Victoria Clinton, is the devil's mistress. He wants you to bring her castle down around her ears.”

Strongheart said, “Happily. But I can't leave Wednesday alone here in the hospital. I have been waiting for her to get the strength to travel, then I'll send her home.”

Lucky chuckled. “
Mon ami
, my friend, do you think I am blind?”

Strongheart said, “Yeah, I have feelings for her, boss, but she grew up in a lodge tanning hides, gathering firewood, hunting, and so on. I am not going to spend my days in a teepee, and I could never ask her to live in a house like a white man.”

Lucky said, “
Sacre bleu!
Joshua, don't you think that should be her decision? You mentioned she hunts. Didn't you teach her how to be a good hunter?”

“I thought she was my first cousin then, alone without a man,” Joshua said. “I told her to hold out until the right man came along and that she had to survive until then.”

Lucky laughed and lit a cigar.

He said, “
Monsieur
Strongheart, if you taught her to hunt and such things, could you not teach her how to live in our society?”

Strongheart looked off at the distant peaks, saying, “I suppose. Lucky, why are you trying to push me into a relationship with Wednesday?”

Lucky said, “Because I know you better than anybody. I see how you look at her, and how she looks at you. Most men would keel to have a woman love them so strongly, my friend.”

Strongheart said, “She should be plenty strong in a few days, and I will send her home, and then head back myself to get Clinton and her gang.”

Lucky said, “She came all those miles to you to warn you about her and tell you who she was. She did that in a white man's world. She told me that she wants to be there with you when you go after Clinton. I think your father's people, by what she told me, want her there with you to see this through.”

Strongheart said, “It is pretty amazing that she traveled so far in a white man's world to find me. I never even took the time since then to think on it. How did she do it?”

“She and her horse traveled by boxcars and stock cars,” Lucky said. “You still think thees woman could not live in a white man's world?”

Strongheart said, “She is pretty amazing.”

It was a week later that a much-rested Joshua Strongheart and a much healthier Wednesday boarded the train at Union Station to make the journey back to Pueblo, then to Cañon City. Strongheart picked up Eagle the next day at the blacksmith's. His hoof had healed, and he was wearing four new shoes and seemed excited to see his master and buddy, Joshua. The blacksmith, who also ran the livery stable on Main Street in Cañon City, had a well-broke Appaloosa gelding named Pebbles that had been owned by a local rancher who had died in a flash flood. Joshua had met the man one time, and he was quite a character.

Strongheart had asked the man, who was named Adamic, one time why he rode an Appy when so many
cowboys frowned on them and said they were only fit for Indians. Adamic took a big bite out of his plug of tobacco, chewed on it a few minutes, then looked at the Pinkerton and replied, “Son, this here country is nasty, nasty. There's a bunch a rocks around these parts that like ta move from time to time, and when they do, I want me a horse that don't. A good Appaloosa can go and go all day, like an Arabian, and they are fit and bred fer the mountains. This here is a mountain horse.”

Then grinning, he added, “Mah horse might be ugly, but he's stupid.”

Pebbles was well muscled and beautiful. He was called a leopard Appaloosa, which meant he had white over his body, covered by evenly spaced sorrel, or red, spots all over, looking somewhat like a leopard in his overall appearance. He had a white mane and tail and black-and-white hooves, which were loved by blacksmiths, as they had both hardness and give to them. They lasted much longer than white hooves and did not crack as easily as brittle solid black hooves.

*   *   *

Scottie rode into Cañon City and found Strongheart and Wiya Waste riding along the Arkansas River.

Joshua said, “Come on, Scottie. I'm buying you two a great dinner.”

He led them to the French Restaurant, and they entered. The same waitress smiled broadly when she
saw them, but then her smile turned to a frown as she looked at Wednesday.

Strongheart said,
“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Comment-allez vous?”

She replied,
“Bonjour, Monsieur Strongheart. Je vais bien, merci. Et vous?”

He said, “I'm fine, but why did you make the face? Do you have a problem with us being here?”

“Non, monsieur,”
she said, red-faced. “I do not, but—but thees ees the headquarters for the Ku Klux Klan in the territory, and . . .”

Strongheart put his hand up, smiling, and said, “The hell with the Klan. If they have a problem with the company I keep or me, send them to me.”

She laughed at this prospect, saying, “
Oui, monsieur.
Please be seated where you would like.”

Joshua led them to a table in the corner, and he sat facing the door.

She handed each a menu and said, “Drinks?”

Strongheart said, “Do you have iced tea? We do not want any liquor today, thank you.”

She said,
“Oui, monsieur.”

He said, “Iced tea for each of us, with sugar.”

Wednesday said, “Iced tea?”

Scottie said, “You're going to love it, Wednesday.”

It was soon placed before them, and she did.

The two let Joshua order for them, so after hors d'oeuvres he ordered. For himself,
lamb noisette
, a
fennel and lavender roasted rack of lamb with a sweetbread and roasted-shallot stuffing with plum tomato and olive tapenade.

Then, for Wednesday, he ordered
filet mignon à la Bordelaise
, which was grilled medallions of beef tenderloin sautéed in Chablis, shallots, thyme, lemon, and veal glacé, with potato gratin, and topped with mushrooms.

Scottie had
poulet chasseur
, made with braised chicken, roasted beets with beet greens, garlic chive mashed potatoes, and tomato-flavored demi-glace.

Wednesday looked at him and, eyes opened wide, said, “Do the
wasicun
eat like this all the time?”

Joshua and Scottie both got a very big chuckle out of this.

Strongheart said, “No, this is a very expensive restaurant with fine foods from France. I will show you a globe and explain where it is, where we are, and where Denver and your home are. I thought you might like a nice meal. Tomorrow we will be up in Westcliffe, and we might not eat well like this for a while.

“Scottie,” Strongheart said over hot coffee some time later, “how is your arm?”

Scottie said, “It's fine. Just a new scar now. Joshua, while you were gone, I made a very important decision. I think it was because of what we went through up there and things I have seen since I have been with you.”

“What's that, Scottie?” Joshua said, curious.

Scottie smiled. “Well, sir, I am not going to become
a Pinkerton.” His face reddened, and he continued, “I have seen things like what we just saw when we first came in. There is so much hate and anger all the time. I have seen how people sometimes treat you and now Wednesday because of skin color. I had all that hatred in my home with my drunken uncle, and even in the way my folks died. Instead of sending bad people to hell like you do, Joshua, I want to catch them early and try to direct them toward Heaven. I'm going to get my education like you and my aunt have told me to do over and over, and I am going to become a sky pilot.”

“You're going to become a preacher!” Joshua said. “That is wonderful, Scottie!”

Strongheart shook hands with him and then directed his attention to Wednesday to explain, “He will become a medicine man like Sitting Bull is.”

She leaned forward and said, “Scottie, that is a very good thing. With my people, that is much better than to be a chief. Being a medicine man is the same as number one, instead of number three or four.”

Strongheart shook his head, smiling. In Denver, she had started to learn about numbers from Teresa and was now using the number one to place a top value on being a medicine man. With the Lakota, medicine was faith and spirituality, not actual medicine. The Pinkerton was impressed that she assigned the number to show how important the position was.

Scottie beamed.

Strongheart said, “Scottie, when it is time for you to
start college, you let me know, and I am going to pay for it, all the way until you become a preacher.”

Scottie was very moved and could hardly speak to explain it.

He nodded and meekly mumbled, “Thank you, sir. God bless you.”

They left the restaurant, and Joshua took Wednesday to his small ranch south of town, and she was very impressed. Unlike the arid soil all around the area, the soil at the ranch was very good because of its proximity to the Arkansas River, which flowed—or, actually, roared—through town. She started cleaning and placing items in more efficient spots.

Strongheart grinned and said, “Nest builder.”

The next morning, they loaded their horses into a freight car on the narrow-gauge railroad that ran up Grape Creek, and they were in Westcliffe well before noon. As always, Zach Banta had gotten word ahead of time about Joshua's return, so he had already gone to Westcliffe with his buckboard to get supplies.

The three had lunch together, and Zach said, “Reckon she has that big old Bullsquat with her now, and three others. Thet new foreman a hers was at a saloon down ta Cañon City, McClure's, the other night and was drinkin' and tryin' ta show off his new Colt Russian .44 and tripped over a chair leg and accidental-like put a bullet right through his own beer mug. Problem was, he was a holdin' it up to his lips at the time. It taken the
top a his head clean off. The real cowboys she had decided they din't need no severance pay. They jest took her herd instead. Heerd they was pushin' it toward Kansas. Now ya only have to deal with four coon-dogs and one hellcat. They are holed up in her ranch. Deputies, nobody has been able ta git in.”

Joshua said firmly, “I will.”

Zach smiled and said, “'Spect so.”

Strongheart said, “I have to stop at the mercantile. Wednesday, I would like you to stay here with Zach until I return. If that is okay with you, Zach?”

Wednesday started to speak, but Strongheart gave her that look that clearly showed this was not up for debate.

Zach said, “Okay with me. Look how purty thet little thing is, and how ugly and old I am. Ya think I mind one bit, yer crazy.”

Joshua got ready to saddle up to leave, and Wednesday jumped forward and confronted him.

“Joshua,” she said, “be careful.”

One thing she had learned to do was kiss as good as any white woman, and she did so now. He smiled down at her and mounted up. He would ride west, then would stop at the mercantile briefly, then turn south.

*   *   *

Two hours later, he rode through the front gate of Victoria Clinton's ranch, but the place looked bare except
for a large herd of antelope out in the lush green pasture. In a few hours, it would be invaded by a large harem of elk and, at the other end, a large herd of mule deer.

He rode up to the front gate, knowing they were all hunkered down inside. He then skirted the big stone wall and grabbed bundles of dynamite from his saddlebags, lit the fuses, and dropped them at several spots around the wall. Then, returning to the front gate, he dropped two bundles there after lighting them, and he ran his horse back. Joshua waited a few minutes.

The gate exploded into numerous splinters of oak and shards of brass and, less than two minutes later, three separate explosions blew giant sections of the rock wall inward, shattering windows and crashing holes in the big ranch house in several places.

Bullsquat and the three gunmen got behind windows in the living room, their rifles poised and ready to shoot. They heard thundering hooves approaching and tensed up, aiming at the opening where the gate had been. Suddenly, Eagle ran through the gate, but he was carrying nothing but Joshua's saddle.

At the same time, Strongheart ran through the western hole in the stone wall and tossed his last dynamite package into the middle of the house, this time with a short fuse. He ran quickly outside and ducked behind the damaged wall, and it exploded within seconds. The rest of the home's windows blew outward, and the three gunmen came out the door gasping and choking on smoke and dust.

They looked all around, guns ready, and finally spun around when they heard Strongheart say, “Boys, up here.”

They saw him standing on the small porch on the second floor, and he drew quickly and fired, fanning his gun, and bullet holes appeared in the chest of each killer, except Bullsquat, whose carbine stock exploded from the bullet's impact. He was staring at Joshua Strongheart, who was thumbing new shells into his Peacemaker. Joshua jumped down on the ground, facing Bullsquat at fifteen paces.

Bullsquat grinned evilly and rolled up his sleeves, fully exposing the ham-sized fists and tree-trunk forearms.

He said, “All right, Strongheart, Ah've seen ya shoot. Now let's see how ya are with them fists. Ah can take you any day.”

Joshua said, “We'll never know. You're heeled. Draw!”

Panic opened Bullsquat's eyes and he said, “I'm gonna kill you!”

Joshua said, “Bullsquat!”

The big man clawed for his gun and looked into the barrel of Strongheart's Peacemaker, wondering how he got it out so fast. He saw flames shoot out twice and looked down at his chest, which was now covered in blood. He couldn't breathe, and he panicked even more and started clawing at his shirt.

Strongheart spun around, sensing a presence behind
him, and Victoria Clinton stood there in a sheer negligee. She apparently was ready to use her own weapon.

She said, “Joshua, I'm not going to prison. You are too much of a gentleman to shoot me. I am rich—very rich—and all this can be yours.”

He said, “On the dead bodies of American Indian men, women, and children. I don't think so, woman. You're going to prison for the rest of your life.”

She pulled a derringer out, pointing it at him, and said, “No, I'm not going to prison. You could have had me. But you turned it down. Now you're going to die, and I will be in New Mexico by nightfall, drinking brandy.”

A voice behind him made him spin around, and there was Wednesday, standing where the gate had been, her bow in her hand with an arrow drawn.

She said, “No, you will not kill him. You will die, and you know how pretty you are? My arrow goes into your pretty face, because of what you and your man did to my people. You die now.”

Victoria panicked and felt faint from sheer terror.

With that, Wiya Waste released the arrow, and it sliced right past Joshua's ear. He turned his head and saw it penetrate Victoria's forehead and exit the back of her skull, killing her instantly. She fell forward into the dirt, her face a bloody mess.

Joshua turned, and Wednesday ran forward, dropping her bow, and threw herself into his arms, kissing him passionately.

He smiled, looked into her tear-filled eyes, and said, “I thought I told you to stay with Zach. Wednesday Strongheart, if I am going to be your husband, you need to start listening to me.”

A stone fell off the crumbling wall, the first of many in the years to come. Eagle and Pebbles whinnied softly to each other, and several birds in the trees outside the wall chirped. A bald eagle flew high overhead, circling in the valley
winds.