Eagle’s Song (24 page)

Did you ever realize how in love I was back then?
she wondered. How easy it could be to feel that way again, but she had Edward now, and he was a good man, loving and gentle.

“You mentioned I should have a family,” Hawk was saying. “How about you? Any children?”

She blushed deeply. “I … no. We aren’t sure what the problem is. Edward says there is nothing wrong …”
Good Lord
, she thought,
such an intimate subject!
How could she explain it? She’d never conceived, and it worried and upset her that she’d been unable to have children, but such subjects just weren’t discussed with casual friends.

“I’m sorry,” Hawk said: “I didn’t mean to bring up something that upsets you. I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right.” The waltz ended, and she put on a smile. “Let’s go meet your grandmother.”

Hawk took hold of her hand, squeezing it as though to tell her not to be embarrassed. The old friendship was still there, and although it made her feel a little guilty, she felt better for it.

Abbie sat beside Dan’s bed, holding his hand, Rebecca on the other side, holding the other one. What
hurt most was that he no longer recognized them; the once so robust and handsome Daniel Monroe had wasted away to a mere skeleton. The end was near, and seventeen-year-old Emily sat in a chair nearby, quietly crying.

Dan had managed to hang on three years longer than expected; Abbie was grateful for Emily’s sake. Now she actually prayed he would die soon, for he had been in unbearable pain this last week. It seemed such a hideous way for a man like Dan to die, and Abbie felt part of her was dying with him, bits and pieces of her heart gone with her loved ones.

This was the last remaining white brother of Zeke Monroe, and the one to whom Zeke had been closest. It was Zeke who had saved Dan from death during the Civil War, and while in the army, Dan had done the same for Wolf’s Blood more than once, risking his own career to keep her warrior son from being arrested and shot. There was a time when she and Dan had been very close, after Dan’s second wife, Bonnie, died. Later he’d married Rebecca. At least he’d been happy these past years.

Dan had been so very handsome in his prime, with his blond hair and blue eyes, the opposite of Zeke in looks and personality but very close in build.

Another good-bye. Another loved one to look forward to seeing when it was her turn to go. Somehow she had learned to accept death. It had not been easy, and she would never quite get over losing Zeke. But she had accepted these losses as facts of life. She was grateful for Arianne’s husband, Dr. Edward Ralston. The governor had sent the man to tend to Dan, and Ralston had been able to provide some relief for Dan’s pain. However, nothing could be done to stop the inevitable.

Outside in the hallway the rest of the family waited,
LeeAnn and Joshua, Jeremy and Mary, Zeke and Georgeanne. Even Ellen and Hal had come from Pueblo, but Margaret and Morgan had stayed at the ranch. Several pregnant mares were due at any time, and oats had to be harvested. Besides that, their new home was under construction, at Zeke’s direction and expense. Soon the old cabin would be empty again; Abbie looked forward to going there to spend her last days. She wished Jason could be here, but his own doctoring duties at the reservation kept him very busy, and it was a long trip to Denver. He and Louellen had three children now, Jonathan, Marian and James, seven, three and one.

It was the children and grandchildren who kept hope alive in time of death. The old moved on, the young took over.

Edward came in to look at Dan again, and he could only shake his head. He was a nice man, very caring. Arianne had chosen well, but Abbie could tell by the inflection in her voice and the look in her eyes whenever she visited and asked about Hawk that Arianne had never lost her infatuation with him. She did not come often, always stayed away when she knew Hawk might be visiting. Abbie wondered if Edward knew how Arianne had once felt about Hawk. She also wondered if Arianne was pregnant. She had looked heavier in the waist and stomach when she’d visited two months ago, but Abbie hadn’t wanted to ask, afraid she would embarrass the woman if there was no pregnancy.

She watched the doctor leave the room, saw Hawk approach him and put out his hand.

“Thanks for your help,” Hawk told the doctor.

Edward shook his hand firmly. “I know Dan Monroe is important to your grandmother, and your grandmother is important to the governor. I’m glad to be of whatever help I can.”

Abbie turned away, glad it was Hawk who had made a point of thanking him.

“And how is Arianne?” Hawk asked Edward in the hallway. “I haven’t seen her at all since the governor’s ball six months ago. I was hoping I could visit with her once more, talk about old times.”

Edward eyed him closely, certainly not oblivious to Hawk’s dark good looks. When his wife had first told him about her life on the reservation in Montana, he had not missed the look of longing in her eyes. Arianne had had a childhood crush on this man; yet now she seemed to deliberately avoid him. There could only be one reason, but he told himself that was not Hawk’s fault. Feelings were feelings, and that was that. This was simply a case of nostalgia. He loved Arianne, and he knew she loved him.

“Arianne is carrying,” he told Hawk. “It took us quite a while to make that happen, and she wants to be sure she hangs on to this baby, so she’s been staying home to rest.” He liked being able to tell Hawk that. In his mind the pregnancy cemented his marriage. He told himself he was a fool to think of Hawk as competition. The man had not done one thing to show an interest in Arianne, had made no advances; and Arianne had remained devoted and loving. Neither of them had done anything to elicit the feelings of jealousy Edward sometimes experienced. Perhaps it was simply that he knew Hawk was bigger and more handsome than he, and shared a past with Arianne that he could never share.

“Well, I’m glad for you both,” Hawk said, sincerity in his eyes. “I hope she has no problems.” He could not quash the little pangs of jealousy, the silent wish that Arianne was still unattached. He thought himself a fool for caring. He told himself he was truly happy for her. He’d recently been seeing a young Mexican
woman, although he had no true romantic interest in her. All this time he’d managed to keep his schooling and career his primary concern, deciding women would only get in the way. It was not until he’d seen Arianne again that his needs had begun to plague him. “Please give her my regards. Perhaps when this is over you can both join us here at Jeremy’s for a family dinner. My grandmother would enjoy seeing her again.”

Edward nodded. “Maybe we’ll do that. It depends on whether Arianne feels up to it.”

Their eyes held in unspoken understanding, and although Hawk only knew this man slightly, he could tell there was a hint of jealousy in Edward’s gray eyes. The doctor was not a big man, but he had a good build. Rather plain-featured, he had brown hair, fair skin, a thin mustache. “Arianne is a fine woman. I only knew her when we were kids, and that’s how I still picture her. We were actually just friends. My last words to her before leaving the reservation were quite cruel. I always felt bad about that. I’m glad she found such a fine man for a husband and is happy. I truly wish you the best with the child. At least she’s in good hands.”

Edward breathed a little easier. “I like to think so.” He grinned then. “Although when the time comes, I believe I’ll let Dr. Mead take over. I’m not sure I could stay calm enough to deliver my own child.”

Hawk laughed lightly. “I can understand that.”

“Dr. Ralston,” Rebecca called.

Everyone sobered as Edward hurried back into Dan’s room. The rest of the family gathered outside as Edward bent over Dan, listening for a heartbeat but hearing nothing. “He’s passed on,” the doctor told Dan’s wife.

Rebecca began to sob, putting her head down against the back of Dan’s hand. Hawk watched his grandmother,
who leaned down and kissed Dan’s other hand, then rose so that Emily could come and sit by him. She looked at Hawk, and he saw the agony in her eyes, knew she was nearing the point where she would not mind leaving this world herself. The only thing that kept her going now was Wolf’s Blood, and the hope she might see her eldest son once more before she died.

A quick pain stabbed his heart at suddenly realizing what an empty place this world would be without his grandmother in it.

Twenty-one

1898
…

Abbie stared at the new home built for Margaret and Morgan, who stood beside her with big grins on their faces. Zeke and Georgeanne were also there, with their three-year-old Peter and the new baby in Georgeanne’s arms, another son, named Jason, after Zeke’s uncle Jason.

“My, oh my,” Abbie exclaimed.

“It’s wonderful!” Ellen added. She and Hal had come from Pueblo to the ranch with Abbie, wanting to see the finished house Zeke had built for his parents. It had taken nearly two years to complete.

Lillian and Daniel, now nineteen and fifteen, were with Ellen and Hal, Lillian itching to get back to Pueblo and the young man there who had been courting her.

“There are two separate apartments upstairs. Susan and I live in one of them,” Zeke’s brother Nathan told them. He held his son, Joseph in his arms. The boy was four years old now, and Susan’s stomach was heavy with a second child who would be born anytime. That would bring the number of Abbie’s great-grandchildren to seven, all born after the family reunion eleven years ago.

“If only Zeke could see this,” Abbie commented, tears welling in her eyes. “Such a home on the Monroe
ranch.” The three-story structure was completely surrounded by a wide veranda, providing a wonderful place to sit in the afternoons and watch the sun set behind the mountains to the west. The second floor also had a veranda, as well as two turrets, and four wide, brick chimneys rose from the rooftop, vents for the eight stone fireplaces inside.

“It’s Queen Anne style,” Zeke told them. “The ground floor is brick, and the second two floors are sided with shingles. I wanted it plenty big, as Georgie and I plan to spend a lot of time here and we’ll want our own private apartment. That’s what the second apartment upstairs is for. There are several rooms at the back of the house where Lance lives, a big enough area for him to live there with a wife when he gets married.” He glanced at his little brother, not so little anymore. Lance was sixteen now, and he grinned bashfully at the mention of taking a wife. “I wanted a place where the whole family can be together. You’re welcome to live there, Grandma, now that you’re back home.”

Abbie turned her gaze to the simple log cabin Zeke Monroe had built for her nearly fifty years ago. It had been altered some since then, Morgan having added on to it because of the need for more room, but the basic cabin was still there. “No, thank you, Zeke.”
Oh, the memories in that little cabin!
Zeke’s mandolin still sat in the corner, and her faithful old mantel clock, a gift from him, still worked, ticking away … waiting for her to come home. “It’s a beautiful home, and Margaret and Morgan deserve such luxury; but home for me is that cabin. That’s where I want to live out the rest of my days. I’ll be quite happy there, and if the children need me, I’m nearby.”

Margaret, her dark hair splashed with even more gray now, shook her head. “If the
children
need
you?
Don’t you think it’s getting to the point of being the
other way around? I think it’s our turn to be there for you, Mother. You’ve been our strength for too many years. It’s time you leaned on us a little.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a burden to any of you. I’ll just live quietly in my little cabin and enjoy my memories. I’ll live in the past.” She turned to face them. “The rest of you belong to the future.” She looked at the house again. “Maybe this Christmas, instead of all of us going to Denver, LeeAnn and Jeremy and the grandchildren can all come here for Christmas. That would be nice. Hawk and Iris should come, too, and see this wonderful house. And I hope this time Jason and Louellen can come down for the holidays. It’s been so long since any of us have seen your little brother, Margaret. You’ve never seen his children, and even I haven’t seen little Marian and James. They’re already four and two, and Jonathan is eight already.”

“Well, let’s go inside and look around,” Zeke told her, taking her arm. “I’ll take you over to the cabin and unload your things later. The house doesn’t have much furniture yet. I’ve ordered some from New York City. Nothing but the best for my mother and father.”

“I think we should send my father a personal invitation to come and visit,” Georgeanne said to her husband. “Wouldn’t this house make him eat some of his words?”

Zeke still hated the man. His trips back here this year had been the first since he’d originally left in ’87. It felt good to be home, but at first he’d been plagued with bad dreams prompted by memories of his last days spent here in pain. His gold discovery, the fact that he had two million dollars in a bank in Denver, that he’d been able to buy more land and build this home for his parents, were all forms of sweet revenge. They made him glad to be here again, although from now
on the elegant ranch home outside of Denver would be his and Georgeanne’s true home.

“I think we
should
pay your father a visit,” he answered. “Maybe seeing his grandchildren will bring him around a little.”

Georgeanne wanted to think that was so; still, she had her doubts. Little Jason was a sweet, good baby, but it was already obvious that he was going to look very Indian. He had a shock of straight, black hair on his tiny head, and his skin was dark brown. Peter, who now walked with his great-grandmother, was a handsome little boy with curly, dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes surrounded by long lashes. His skin was a very soft brown, and like his father’s, his face had no distinctive features to say just what blood he carried. Georgeanne loved her children, did not want them hurt. “I don’t know if we should. He might say something to upset the boys. I never want them insulted, certainly not by their own grandfather. They would never understand that.”

“Well, either way they’ve got to be told the truth eventually, about their heritage and about their grandfather, that he does exist. We’ll have to find a way to explain to them why they never get to see him.”

“We’ll find a way. Right now let’s just enjoy your parents’ new home and bask in the satisfaction of having paid for it ourselves, Mr. Brown.”

He smiled, and they all went inside for a grand tour of the library, the study, the game room, parlor, dining room, living room, the huge kitchen, and the big apartments on the second floor. There were laundry chutes, and oil lamps of every size and style were placed throughout the house. “Before you know it they’ll be bringing electricity all the way out to places like this,” Zeke suggested.

“That will never happen!” Margaret insisted. “Not clear out here.”

“You should see the progress in Denver,” Abbie told her. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all if electric lines came out this way someday. I have ceased to be amazed at what man can do when he sets his mind to it. When I first came out here, there were no roads, no railroads—there wasn’t even a Denver yet. We’d been living out here twelve years before gold was discovered along Cherry Creek and Denver was born. Now look at the size of it.” She shook her head. “I swear, I can’t keep up with how fast things are growing and changing. I know it’s hard for the Cheyenne, too … all the Indian tribes.” Quickly pain stabbed her at the thought of Wolf’s Blood, and she walked out onto the second-floor veranda to look across the plains toward the north.

Margaret walked up beside her and put an arm around her waist. “You’re thinking of my brother.”

“Yes.”

“He knows you’d want to see him once more, Mother. If we have to, we’ll take you up to Canada ourselves. Maybe Hawk can find some free time to show us where he is.”

Abbie sighed. It would be such a long, long trip. She wasn’t sure she was up to it anymore, much as she hated to admit it. She became tired much more easily these days. The least little effort sometimes left her breathless, as though her heart just couldn’t quite keep up. She hadn’t seen a doctor, for she believed in letting nature take its course. She did not doubt the only trouble with her heart was that it had been broken too many times. She welcomed the walk along
Ekutsihimmiyo
someday, for she knew who would be waiting for her at the end of the Hanging Road to heaven.

“We’ll see,” she answered Margaret. “If God means for me to see my son once more, He’ll find a way for
it to happen.” She turned to Zeke. “I’d like to go to the cabin now.”

He smiled lovingly. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

“The old brass bed is still in the main bedroom, Mother,” Margaret told her. “I put clean sheets and quilts on it, and a new feather mattress.”

Abbie nodded. “Thank you.” Memories came of glorious, fulfilling nights spent in that bed with Zeke Monroe. And she and Swift Arrow had made love in that same bed. She had not lain with a man now for eight years, the last time being that beautiful month she had spent at the reservation with Swift Arrow before he’d left to join the Sioux in their Ghost Dance religion.

She breathed deeply against the ache of memories and followed Zeke outside, climbed into the wagon and rode to the old cabin. Nathan had come along to help carry in her things. She opened the door, thinking how much better she liked this little place than that big house Zeke had built for his parents, but she would never tell him so.

Home. She was home. She walked to the ancient rocker that still sat in front of the old, stone fireplace, where she’d sat so many nights over the years with her Bible in her lap, praying for one of the children or for Zeke. She sat down in it and closed her eyes while Zeke and Nathan brought in her baggage.

“Grandma? You all right?” Zeke asked, leaning close to her.

She smiled, looking into his handsome, dark eyes. She could see a little bit of Zeke in every one of her children and grandchildren. “I’m fine. I’m home.”

He smiled, kissing her cheek. “I’m going back to the main house. We’ll come get you for supper.”

“Never mind. I’ll walk over. A woman my age needs to keep exercising, or I’ll end up sitting down and
never getting up again. I’m not that feeble yet, Zeke Brown.”

He laughed lightly. “All right. Come over about six.” He kissed her again, and Nathan did the same before they both left.

Abbie rocked, listening to the ticking of the mantel clock. Years. That clock had ticked away so many years.

“Damn!” Hawk read the headlines again. DR. EDWARD RALSTON, PERSONAL PHYSICIAN TO GOVERNOR MURDERED! “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, sitting down behind his desk. He could hardly believe what he was reading. Dr. Ralston had died from several blows to the head, delivered by thugs apparently bent on stealing whatever money he had on him. Crime was on the rise in Denver, due in part to many jobless people, but also to the fact that many of those in power, and the city’s wealthy, continued to ignore the problems of a city that had grown too fast too soon. The governor had been trying to do something about the situation, but he couldn’t do much alone.

“ ‘Dr. Ralston leaves behind a widow and seventeen-month-old daughter,’ ” Hawk read. He noticed the article in the
Rocky Mountain News
was by Joshua, and he wondered if Joshua knew anything about who had committed the crime.

He threw the newspaper down and walked to a window, three floors up. He was in one of the newer brick buildings, ten stories high, and one of the city’s finest. He watched the busy street below, paved with brick; fancy carriages and coaches moving up and down it; two city cleanup men walking around and scooping up horse dung. Living in the busy, central part of the city, dealing mostly with the rich, it was difficult to realize
what was really going on out there, how many desperate people lurked in the city’s back streets.

Poor Arianne, a baby to care for and no husband. How would she get by without her husband’s income? “The city’s government is to blame for this,” he said aloud.
There must be more law and order, more programs to help the poor and jobless. Those in power have to wake up to the facts
. He thought about that for several minutes, and the idea that this death was the city administration’s fault kept eating at him. Maybe he could do something about it, and at the same time do something to help Arianne. She would need money, especially with a baby to care for and no parents to run home to.

He let the thought brew, feeling suddenly restless. He should go and see Arianne, express his condolences. But surely he could do something more. He paced, thinking, feeling sick about the murder. After seeing the honest concern in Edward’s eyes in those few days the man had doctored his great-uncle, he’d come away liking him immensely. No man of Edward’s age and ability should die as he had.

He threw the paper aside, thinking how awful this must be for Arianne. There had to be a way to help her through this.

Arianne placed little Joanna in her small bed, glad she had her little girl to help soothe her shattered nerves. If only she and Edward could both have been there for their daughter during her growing-up years. Now the child would have no memory of her father when she was older.

She fought new tears, wondering if they would ever stop coming, if she would ever get over this. If Edward had not died so violently, perhaps it would have been
easier to bear the loss. The thought of those cruel men beating him over the head sickened her, and she wondered what the world was coming to. She also wondered what she should do now. She couldn’t live with Dr. Mead forever. Her brother was now an agent on a Sioux Indian reservation in North Dakota, but in his last letter she’d learned he wasn’t well. He’d sent his condolences and had asked her to come live with him again, but she really did not care to take Joanna to such a remote place.

She supposed she would have to find work of some kind, although there were few jobs for women, and what would she do with her baby? Without a father, Joanna would need her mother even more than the normal child. Arianne felt so helpless. She’d been in a quandary for six weeks now, and still she had no answer to her dilemma. She had always counted on Edward being there, hadn’t realized how much she loved and depended on him until now. Such a vital young man with such a wonderful future ahead of him, cut down in the prime of life! It was sickeningly cruel. The men who had committed the murder had never been caught, and the citizens of Denver were in an uproar, demanding more law and order.