Deborah Camp (36 page)

“Spill some of them into this.” He took off his hat and held it for her to topple a few vegetables into its crown.

“Someday me and McCall will have such a place. He helped make this one.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Tucker Jones, are you happy?” she asked, tilting her head sideways to scrutinize him.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“But not always?”

“No one is always happy.”

“Will you stay here with the Copper Headed Woman and her child? Will you make another baby in her?”

He started for the cabin again, uneasy with the turn of conversation because he knew Copper wouldn’t appreciate his talking about such things with another woman, especially a Lakota woman.

Inside the cabin he found what he expected; Copper and Micah engaged in animated talk. Micah sat back in one of the kitchen table chairs and slapped his thighs, his eyes fastened on Tucker.

“You won’t believe this, Jones, but I planned on riding past here and not stoppin’ on my way to Laramie.”

“What changed your mind?” Tucker asked, not really interested. He motioned for Ann to put the turnips and potatoes on the table.

“I heard something from a cavalry man I thought you ought to know. This here army man rode up to Gus’ the very day after you and Copper took your leave. We gave him supper and a bedroll, figurin’ him for a deserter. He was wearin’ grays.”

“A Johnny Reb,” Tucker said.

“Yep.” Micah chuckled. “He was on his way the next day. Said he was scoutin’ for land; somewhere where he could be all alone with nobody shoutin’ orders at him. Gus finally just came out and asked if he was a runner. He puffed out his chest, all prickly about bein’ called such a thing.”

“It’s fighting words to most men,” Tucker noted, his sharp glance reminding Micah that he was one of them. “Take me, for instance. Any man who looks me in the eye and calls me a deserter is a man who must not be too fond of his teeth, for he’s surely about to loose a few.”

“Tuckeeer,” Copper warned.

“Don’t you worry, Copper,” Micah said, grinning from ear to ear as he squared his shoulders and tipped the chair onto the two back legs. “Such words don’t apply anymore, accordin’ to that Reb.” He held Tucker’s gaze, his smile slipping away. “You can lay down your arms, Captain Jones, and quit worryin’ about your fellow officers trackin’ you here. The war is over.”

Tucker stared at him, wondering what he meant. Micah set the chair on all four legs again and thrust out his jaw.

“You hard of hearin’, Yank? I said the war is over! That Reb said his side surrendered back in April. Oh, yeah, and he said that Lincoln’s dead. Somebody shot him.”

“What?” A numbness stole over Tucker. He saw Micah’s lips moving and realized the man was still
speaking, but he heard nothing above the roar in his ears. Over. The war was over? President Lincoln was dead? It couldn’t be true. All this couldn’t have happened in the short time he’d been away!

“Tucker? Tucker, are you all right? Tucker!” Copper tugged on his sleeve and his glassy-eyed stare shifted to her. “You going to pass out, Tucker?”

“No.” He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments. “I … this is all too much. Lincoln is dead? Was he killed in battle? What was he doing out in the field?”

“He wasn’t in battle. That Reb said somethin’ about him bein’ out at some social function and a sore loser shot him in the head. He died the next day. I don’t know who’s president now. The Reb said he didn’t stick around to find out because he’s not part of that country anymore. Said he was through with governments and the North and South and all that bull rot. Can’t say as I blame him. Seems like all those folks do in the so-called organized states is shoot each other over scraps of land not fit for plowin’ or grazin’.”

Tucker sat in the rocking chair and stared into the hearth fire. He could see the image of Abraham Lincoln’s face in the dancing flames and found it hard to grasp that the president was dead and buried. Where did that leave the North? Who was president now? He had to think hard before remembering Lincoln’s vice-president. Andrew Johnson. What sort of man was he? Would he continue Lincoln’s plan for unification? For the life of him, Tucker couldn’t recall ever seeing a likeness of Johnson. President Johnson now. The drone of McCall’s voice invaded his thoughts again and Tucker shook off the remains of his shock to catch the tail-end of McCall’s comments.

“… so discharge papers are being passed out like alms to the poor, and Confederate bills, stocks,
and bonds are being used as outhouse paper.” He tipped back the chair again to release a belly laugh. “Yep, we’re all fortunate to be up here out of the hell below.” He indulged in a squinty-eyed study of Tucker. “You look like somebody socked you in the gut, Jones. I told Gus that me and Ann would stop by here and deliver the news, seein’ as how you’ve got ties to the North. Guess you’re glad to hear your side is the victor.”

“Yes, I am. Of course, I knew we’d win the war. The South was actually defeated when Sherman began his march to the sea.” Tucker stood and went toward the door.

“Tucker, where are you going?” Copper asked.

“To the stables. I’m all right. You go ahead and get your visit in.”

“But, Tucker …”

He managed to smile weakly. “I’ll be in the stables. I’ve got chores to do. Call me when supper’s on.”

She nodded, letting him go.

After supper the women sat near the fire and Copper demonstrated to Ann how to knit baby booties and shawls from cotton and wool Micah went with Tucker to check on the animals.

“She hasn’t made you sleep out here much, has she?” Micah asked with a big grin.

“No, not lately.” Tucker broke the film of ice on top of the water bucket and Ranger slurped noisily, all the while rolling his eyes wildly to warn off the men. Hauler butted Tucker’s shoulder and Tucker draped an arm around the mule and scratched between its ears. “You old beggar. Always wanting attention, aren’t you?”

“Have any other Indians been poking around here?” Micah asked.

“Nope.” Tucker winced, regretting the lie. “Yes. There have been some, but Copper says they’re
only using her to test their courage. She says it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Uh-uh,” Micah grunted.

“Sounds like you don’t buy that. Me neither. They pinned a coyote to a tree near the cabin. Copper said they were calling us cowards. Of course, it’s me they’re calling names. Not her.”

“Who left the coyote?”

“There weren’t any markings, so Copper couldn’t tell.”

“That’s peculiar.”

“I guess you think I’m gutless to stay here. I should probably go with you and Ann to Laramie.”

Micah leaned back against a support post and crossed his ankles. “No, that would hurt Copper’s feelings. She’s taken a shine to you. When you leave, it ought to be with her blessing. Wouldn’t do my friendship with her any good if I was to ride off with you before she’s ready to let you go. I think I’ll stay clear of it, if you don’t mind.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” Tucker observed.

“Yep. I didn’t understand how much Copper liked you until she went to such extremes to keep you from running away at Gus’ cabin. Until that day, I figured she felt responsible for you. Now I know it’s more than that. Now I see that it’s personal between the two of you.”

Tucker didn’t bother to deny it. “I’m glad Copper’s made friends with Ann.”

“She hasn’t.” Micah chuckled. “She’s made peace with her for my sake. No Lakota will ever be that gal’s bosom buddy.” He crossed his arms and tucked his hands high up under them. “You’ll let her down easy, won’t you? I meant what I said about tracking you down if you hurt Copper. She’s fragile in many ways. When you leave, you better not leave her in pieces.”

“I won’t.” Tucker pushed Hauler away. “I don’t need your threats either.”

“Are we ever going to like each other?”

“I doubt it.”

Micah laughed and shook his head. “What in tarnation does she see in you? Why couldn’t she love me instead of you? I’d be a sight better for her, that’s for sure.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Easy. She was raised in the mountains. I’m a mountain man. You’re not. Your place is on flat land behind a desk in some bank.”

Tucker eyed him. “And where were you raised, Micah McCall?”

“Huh? Me?” He stuttered for a moment before one sensible word fell from his lips. “Pennsylvania.”

Tucker cupped a hand around one ear and strained forward. “Say again? Pennsylvania? Did you say Pennsylvania, mountain man? Where abouts? Philadelphia, perhaps?” He saw the confirmation flash angrily in Micah’s eyes. “Ah-ha! Philadelphia. Why, hell, son! You’re more of a city slicker than me!”

“I left there when I was just out of short pants and I’ve been living in these mountains ever since,” Micah stated firmly. He lowered his brows menacingly. “Never liked city life.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Not old.”

“How old?”

“Nineteen.”

“McCall! You were wearing short pants when you were nineteen?” Tucker clucked his tongue disparagingly. “A backward city slicker at that! You must have put gray hairs in your mama’s head.”

“You just lay off me while you’re still standin’, Jones.” He straightened, hands balled into fists at his side. “I’m more mountain man than you’ll ever be, even if you live here in the Rockies the rest of your sorry life!” He pointed a finger at the great
beyond. “Why, you wouldn’t last a week out there on your lonesome. If you didn’t have Copper to watch over you, you’d be deader than threshed wheat.”

Tucker started to hotly impugn McCall’s assertions, but he retreated as self-doubt rippled through him.

“Yep, that’s right,” Micah drawled, recognizing Tucker’s hesitation for what it was. “Fightin’ for a cause with a bunch of other men is different than fighting to live all by yourself out here. You gotta know how to make a shelter for yourself, rustle up your own vittles, endure winters that’ll freeze the balls off polar bears, and stay one step ahead of about ten thousand Injuns who’re looking for white men’s scalps to add to their collections.” He wandered to the double doors, open to the night. “I took to them mountains like a duck to water, but I damn near died countless times that first couple of years. From what I’ve observed, you’re out of your paddock, Jones.”

Tucker stared at Micah’s back and gritted his teeth. “You know one of the main reasons I don’t like you, McCall? You’re not above kicking a man when he’s down.”

Micah glanced at him with surprise. “I’m only tellin’ it like I see it, Jones. Surely, you must have doubts about making a life for yourself out here.”

“You never did?”

Micah stared at the dark shadows of the mountains against the star-pocked sky. “Never with any conviction.”

Tucker amassed all the bravado at his fingertips. “Don’t waste doubts on me, McCall. If I decide to stay, I’ll be more than able to take care of myself. I’ve done it for years.” He stood beside McCall and delivered a steely glare. “After all, I’ve had a good teacher in Copper.”

“True, but I saw your face when I told you about the war and Lincoln’s death. It means nothing
to me and Copper and Ann, but it knocked you off your feet. You’re tied to the lowlands.”

“I’m an American, just like you. Lincoln wasn’t my personal president. He was yours, too.”

“He didn’t preside over anything up here.”

“To hell you say,” Tucker scoffed.

“We didn’t pay a speck of attention to that war you’ve been waging.”

“Maybe you didn’t, but others did. What did you think I was doing in this territory? I’m not the only soldier in these parts, McCall. Copper has an excuse for not being involved with the war or having no interest in Lincoln. After all, she was raised by the Crow. But you have no excuse except your own lazy ignorance.”

McCall’s head snapped around and his eyes blazed briefly. “Watch your mouth. All I’m sayin’ is that war had nothing to do with us up here.”

“And I’m saying you’re either wearing blinders or you’re stupid. That war was fought to put an end to men like you buying themselves maids and fieldhands and wet nurses and bed warmers.”

“I’ve never bought another human!”

“You traded for Ann! What is she, a pack animal?”

Micah emitted a low growl that keened upward as he executed a roundhouse swing. Tucker ducked and Micah’s arm swished over his head, throwing the big man off-balance. Tucker plowed into him, knocking him sideways. Micah stumbled backward, but regained his balance. He huffed and puffed, eyes narrowed with hate.

Tucker held up his hands, palms outward. “McCall, tap your cork back in. I’m only telling the truth. You bought Ann, and you aren’t the only man who has bought himself a woman here in these mountains. But the war is over and the Union won, and that sort of behavior won’t be allowed anymore among us Americans. Not even here in your sacred mountains.”

Both men were startled out of their face-to-face confrontation by the gentle clearing of a feminine throat. They twisted in unison to find Copper silhouetted in the doorway.

“Micah, Rides In A Circle is tired. I thought I’d spread your bedrolls in front of the hearth.”

“No, we’ll sleep out here.”

“I won’t hear of it!”

“No, no. It’s best. That cabin’s too small for four adults and a baby. Me and mine will be better off out here. It’s not even that nippy tonight. Loan us a couple of buffalo robes and we’ll do fine.”

“Well, if you insist.” She sounded sad.

Micah strode past her. “I’ll get our things.”

When he was gone, Copper moved into the moonlight. Worry shadowed her expressive face. “Tucker, you two fighting again?”

“Yes, sort of.”

“About what? Me again?”

“No, about our different views on life and politics.”

“I wish you two could be friends.”

“Could you and Ann be fast friends—ever?”

Copper chewed on her lower lip before answering, “No.”

“Same with me and McCall. I don’t even
want
to be his damned friend.”

Copper slipped her hand in his. “Are you okay, Tucker? I can’t tell if you’re glad or sad about the war and how it all ended up.”