Antebellum BK 1 (40 page)

West Point, New York

C
adet Fitzhugh Lee, the grandson of General “Light Horse” Harry Lee, sat facing the grandson of General John “Yank” Van Buskirk in their cramped room. “Going absent without leave will earn you twenty-four demerits, minimum, Johnny.”

“
Pug got ninety-nine in his plebe year and still graduated third,” Johnny replied.

“
But you’ve gone all this time with none,” Lee said animatedly. “You’re the only cadet in our class with a clean record. Don’t ruin it now.”

“
I asked for a pass to go home for Easter in a timely fashion, Fitz,” Johnny replied calmly. “Averell only disapproved it because I disagreed with him about States’ Rights.”

“
You made him look like a fool in public,” Lee corrected.

“
Be that as it may. He denied my pass for personal reasons.”

“
Appeal it up the chain of command or to the Honors Committee.”

“
I’ll get more attention by going AWOL.”

Lee closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. “The whole idea of your going home for Easter is foolhardy to begin with.”

“
What’s foolhardy about it?”

“
This romance with Caitlin is bound to escalate beyond what happened at Christmas. If you get her pregnant, you’ll be dismissed and both your futures will be in ruin.”

“
West Point isn’t everything to me like it is to you, Fitz.”

“
All I’m suggesting is that you wait until next summer.”

“
What’s going to be different in the summer?”

“
You’ll have more time together and it won’t feel so desperate.”

“
We love each other, Fitz.”

Lee shook his head. “Listen to me please, Johnny. I wouldn’t be sticking my nose in your business if I was sure that you and Caitlin had a future together, but you don’t even know each other.”

“
Of course we know each other.”

“
How can you know each other when you’ve spent every private minute necking and petting?”

“
We spent some time dancing.”

Lee made a face. “Have you ever had a conversation with the girl?”

Johnny didn’t answer.

“
Mark my words, going AWOL aside, if you spend Easter with Caitlin you’ll live to regret it for the rest of your life.”

“
I’m going.”

Lee put his hands to his head in exasperation, then dropped them. “Okay, I give up, John. But I’ll make you a deal. If I help you get Easter leave, will you promise to at least make an effort to get to know Caitlin?” He held up his hands. “Yes, yes, I know; she’s the girl of your dreams. But I’m asking you – no, I’m begging you. Slow down. Put your passion aside and use your brain. Marriage is forever. If you make a mistake you’re stuck with it for the rest of your life.”

Johnny took a breath to argue, then nodded. “You’re right.” He walked to the window and looked out at the bare trees. “Okay. It’s a deal. If you fix my Easter leave, I’ll slow it down.”

“
One more thing,” Lee said.

“
I hate making deals with you, Fitz. There’s always one more thing.”

“
This relates to your getting to know her.”

“
Okay, what’s the one more thing?”

“
Tell me something you don’t like about her.”

Johnny turned around. “I can already do that. She sounds like a donkey when she laughs.”

Lee chuckled. “Okay. You’ll get your leave.”

April 1, 1855

Sacramento, California

S
eventeen covered wagons, each with its own collection of animals, formed a lopsided circle. “I don’t trust Indians, Jack.” Clementine put her knee against the water barrel and, with a grunt, pulled the holding strap tighter.

“
That’s something you need to get over,” Jack replied calmly. “My mother and my sister-in-law are both Indians.”

“
They’re not wild Indians like that one.” She tipped her head toward the boy who was standing with his arms folded and pretending to be unaware of the argument.

“
Damn.” Jack took off his hat and wiped his brow with his neckerchief. “I just don’t understand this prejudice against Indians. That boy only wants to rejoin his tribe, but none of the northbound trains will take him.”

“
That should tell you something, even if you don’t understand it.” She checked the hasps on the tool box, then leaned back against the wagon and looked up at him. “Indians are our enemies, Jack. They hate us.” She raised her hand. “Don’t. I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t care if they have good reason. They still can’t be trusted.”

“
Well, hell.” Jack put his hat back on. “He’s my employee and nobody can keep him from going. Not even you.”

“
If he gets in this wagon I’m getting out,” she said adamantly.

“
The others don’t want me to give him a horse and you won’t let him ride in the wagon?” Jack took his hat off again and beat it against his leg in frustration. “Okay then.” He put his hat back on and tugged the brim down over his eyebrows. “He’ll walk and he’ll sleep under the wagon, but he’s coming.”

“
What if I said it was him or me?”

He pointed back toward the town. “Take whatever you can carry and start walking. I’ve taken all the shit from you that I’m willing to take.”

She glared at him, fumed for several seconds, then, mumbling curses under her breath, climbed into the back of the wagon.

Jack walked to the boy and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

The boy shrugged.

“
I hope you don’t mind walking. If I give you a horse or a weapon these good people will rise up and leave the train in protest.”

The boy shrugged again.

“
I speak several eastern Indian languages. Are any of them like yours?”

Another shrug.

Jack tried a few phrases in various tongues and saw a reaction to a Ho-Chunk greeting. “This you understand?” he asked in Ho-Chunk.

“
Wrong sound. It is the language of the
Old Speakers
,” the boy said in his native dialect.

Jack nodded. “It’s a start,” he said in English. “I’ll walk with you to Yellowstone, and you can teach me your language on the way.”

“
Why?”

“
Why not?”

The boy shrugged.

“
What name should I call you?”

“
Make one.”

Jack shook his head. “I’ll just wait until you decide to tell me your name.”

Once again, a shrug was his answer.

Jack looked toward the wagon, but Clementine was inside and out of sight. “My wife will come around when she gets to know you, but for now I’m your only friend. A friend should know your name.”

“
You can call me Coyote.”

Jack turned back and looked down into the boy’s eyes. “Coyote. The trickster?”

“
You wanted a name, I told you one.”

Jack locked eyes with the boy.

“
It is just a name. It does not mean anything.” The boy dropped his eyes to the ground.

“
It better not,” Jack said. “It would be fatal to mistake my kindness for weakness.”

The boy looked up. “Thank you for helping me. I will not forget that.”

April 8, 185
5

Elizabeth, New Jersey

J
ohnny Van Buskirk gave the reins of his horse to a groom. “It appears that I’m late,” he said, observing all the carriages and horses lined up along the road in front of the mansion.

“
Have you an invitation?”

“
I’m a member of the family. My name is John Van Buskirk.”

“
The family and guests are dining on the back lawn,” the groom said, stiffly. “You may follow the path through the arbor.” He pointed.

“
Thank you. I know the way.” John brushed dust from his uniform trousers, considered wiping off his boots and then decided against it and examined the familiar old house called
Liberty Hall
with a critical eye. In the year 1770, William Livingston, signatory of the United States Constitution and great-great-great-grandfather of Johnny Van Buskirk, had moved his young family to his newly completed mansion. The city of Elizabeth was then called Elizabethtown. In spite of being badly damaged during the Revolution, Liberty Hall now looked the same as it had when the first John Van Buskirk had courted Anna Livingston here, eighty years ago.

“
Was there something else?” the groom asked.

“
No.” Johnny shook his head and set off down the path.

Caitlin Livingston jumped up from the long, crowded picnic table and ran toward the arbor where the tall young man in his West Point cadet’s uniform had just entered. “I thought you couldn’t come,” she squealed excitedly.

“
My roommate used his brother’s influence to get me a pass at the last minute,” Johnny replied.

She took his hand and looked into his eyes. “Promise?”

“
Promise what?”

“
Promise that Fitz’s brother got you a pass and you didn’t do an AWOL?”

“
Isn’t a promise made upon something in the future?”

“
Don’t change the subject. You know what I mean.”

“
Yes I know what you mean and I didn’t do an AWOL.” He gestured toward the table. “Go finish your lunch. I want to visit Beelzebub.”

“
No. Come with me.” She tugged on his hand. “I’ll fix you a plate.”

He shook his head. “I stopped to borrow a horse from Abe. Ginger made me eat a huge breakfast.” He looked toward the people at the table who were all pointedly avoiding looking back. “Besides. I don’t know half of your guests. Introductions and eating lunch are clumsy at best.”