Echoes of the Heart (51 page)

           
John
rode in and helped load then they rode off in the direction the soldiers had
taken, and Cash hoped the Cheyenne had stayed in Canada but he would take no
chances.
 
If it came to a fight, he would
stand with Dull Knife and take as many soldiers with him as possible.
 
He had no fear of death only humiliation and
his faith in the government dwindled with each passing day.
 
It seemed almost impossible the strong
warriors he grew up with could end this way.
 
They had always been a part of his life and now like the buffalo, they
faced extinction.

           
Cash
shot an antelope for meat while they traveled behind the procession of soldiers
past the Black Hills toward the Canadian Territory border.
 
The rocky land, stripped of vegetation by
severe weather as they moved into Northern Dakota Territory became more
desolate with each passing mile.

           
At
night, they bedded under the wagon and during the day, they kept their distance
to evade the dust in the wake of the soldiers.

           
On
the second week out, a far away low cloud of dust caught the cavalry’s
attention.
 
Cash had seen it for
miles.
 
When they broke formation to send
out a scouting expedition, Cash and John rode their flanks until they spotted
the Cheyenne.
 
They bolted ahead to meet
them in an effort to circumvent a confrontation and soon realized the gesture
had been wasted.
 
A lump formed in Cash’s
throat.

           
He
showed no emotion but his stomach rolled over looking at the tattered starving
band of demoralized Cheyenne ceding without a fight.
 
He had asked himself repeatedly how he might
right this wrong, his only conclusion the path he had already taken in
Congress.
 
At this point, he could do
nothing.

           
Cash
rode alongside Dull Knife while keeping a close eye on the soldiers, leaving
only to hunt.
 
The Indians could not
leave the formation so he made sure they had fresh meat and allowed the
soldiers to fend for themselves.

           
Upon
arrival in Chamberlain, the Cheyenne got crammed into a cattle car for shipment
to St. Louis then on to the reservation in Oklahoma.
 
Cash rode with them on the train and the trek
to Oklahoma, again hunting along the way.
 

           
Even
in the spring, the weather became hot during the day, trudging through the
dusty ground.
 
At night, he sat around
the campfire with his friends gazing at the star spattered sky, talking about
the old days and what might lie ahead.

He stockpiled as
much meat and supplies as he could gather for them on the reservation before he
made his way home, feeling sick to leave them in such a degrading place.

           
Cash
rode hard returning to St. Louis, all along the way thinking about the
Cheyenne.
 
He planned to hit the floor
running when he returned to the Capitol at the end of the year, refusing to
accept their fate.
 
If it took the rest
of his life, he would never quit fighting.

           
While
awaiting the train in St. Louis, he fought the temptation to visit Raeden’s
family.
 
He had avoided asking Diane
about her and he would keep away from them as well.

***

Cash stood near a
fence at his ranch, trying to keep his mind centered, observing vast flocks of
geese fanning across the sky filtering sunlight while migrating north along the
flyway.
 
He then gazed over lush green pastures
at the round bellied heifers, admiring his spread.

           
He
thought of Raeden as he did so much of the time.
 
Perhaps if she had not lost the baby, she
would be standing beside him now.
 
Nevertheless, he refused to be bitter.
 
He had enough to last a lifetime.

           
Casting
all aside for the moment, he strolled to the house to draw a bath.

The spring gala
scheduled for this evening at Mike and Diane’s would be an opportunity to
mingle with his constituents and he wanted to look the part.
 
He would face re-election after the next
session so he needed to start planning.
 
This part, he would dislike the most.
 
Though he had no alternative but to make concessions in order to carry
out his plans, he went through the motions and dressed in his finest, wishing
he could just go to the saloon and get pleasantly drunk.

***

           
Cash
stood on the front porch with Senator Wilcox and other townsmen at Diane’s,
smoking cigars and discussing politics until the men’s wives began complaining
and Diane ushered them back inside.
 
He
realized how much she reminded him of Raeden, so independent and feisty yet
feminine and kind.
 
He had always admired
strong women?
 
Would there ever be anyone
again he might be able to love?

           
He
doubted it would happen unless he could rid his mind of Raeden.
 
Whenever he compared her to other women, they
always fell short.

           
As
the crowd dispersed, Cash thought a visit with Angie might be a nice
distraction when Diane invited him into the parlor, her smile gone and face
sullen with concern.
 
His instincts told
him she would be discussing Raeden.
 
Could she be sick or injured?
 
No,
Diane would have said something earlier.

           
Diane
sat on the sofa.
 
“Sit down, Cash.
 
I won’t be long.”

           
Not
in the mood for a lecture, he dropped into a wing back, stretched his legs
forward carelessly crossing his boots at the ankles and waited for the
assault.
 
“Cash, I think this battle
between you and Rae needs to be addressed.”

           
A
smug look covered his increasing agitation.
 
What is it with these people?
 
Why can’t they mind their own business?
 
First John, now Diane.
 
He wanted to bolt.

           
“I
never receive a letter from Rae where she doesn’t ask about you.”

           
Her
comment got his attention but he would not let her know it.
 
“That’s nice.
 
She could have written me.
 
I
would have told her I’m fine.”

           
Diane
kept eye contact and continued in a quiet voice.
 
“I know she loves you Cash, and you love her
as well.
 
Don’t try to deny it.
 
Is there any way you two might be able to
come to terms?”

           
Cash
straightened and leaned forward with his arms on his knees.
 
“Diane, I have tried.
 
All we do is argue our positions then she
acts as if she hates me.
 
She has never
once said she wants me in her life so let’s forget this nonsense.”
 
He started to stand.
 
“I can’t listen to her tirades without
desiring to choke her pretty little neck.”

           
“Do
you love her?”

           
He
sat back down, stunned by her question.
 
“What kind of a question is that?
 
Of course, I love her.
 
I would
not have married her if I didn’t.
 
I have
saved her life at the risk of my own and would trade it for hers in a
heartbeat.”
 
His agitation increased
while he stared into her sapphire eyes.

           
“Have
you told her?”

           
“Yes,
she uses it as a weapon.”
 
Cash recalled
the morning in the hotel room in St. Louis when she spat out the words, driving
him into a rage.

“She has sent me
papers to annul our marriage.
 
Does that
strike you as someone who
wants
to be
married?”
           
“Don’t be so sure, Cash.
 
Sometimes women need assurance and with your
past history, she may believe you had attempted to force her into something she
cannot commit to, like when you bullied her into marriage.”

           
Diane
sat perfectly straight while he crawled into a defensive hole.
 
 
“Rae should know how much I care for her
but every time I try to make plans she rebels and runs.”

           
“Well,
maybe you are going about this in the wrong way.”

           
His
eyes squinted and his temper flared, muscles tensed into tight ribbons.
 
“For Christ sake, Diane, when we touch each
other I turn to mush.
 
I know I forced
her to marry me but godammit. If I thought it would have made any difference, I
would have gotten down on my knee to propose.”

           
Suddenly
drained of false pride and tired of feeling like a cad.
 
“I love Raeden.
 
Everybody loves Raeden.
 
Even my damn horse loves her.
 
Her kindness to others and indestructible
passion for living has crept into my soul leaving me craving a life I would
never dreamed of having.
 
I will always
be grateful to her for that.
 
I just
don’t understand this obsession of hers.”
 
He dropped his head in his hands combing fingers through his hair then
raised his head to see the compassion in Diane’s eyes.

           
His
voice rose faintly in volume and his hands spread apart.
 
“My new position is far more critical.
 
Don’t you understand?
 
The future of the Cheyenne must come
first.
 
The lives of two people fade in
comparison to the destruction of an entire race doomed to live out their lives
like caged animals or even worse, wiped off the face of the earth.”

           
Diane
placed a hand on his knee.
 
“Is that the reason
you separated?”

           
“You
could say so.
 
She will never leave New
York and Dull Knife needs me in D.C.
 
I
have racked my brain to find a way around the situation, but I always come up
with a dry hole.”
 
His lips pressed to a
thin line, shaking his head in defeat.

           
Diane
removed her hand and stood, apparently ready to abandon the conversation.
 
“It sounds pretty futile, Cash.
 
Why don’t we end this depressing subject?
 
I know you have important matters needing
your attention, let’s just say goodnight.
 
Maybe we can talk again at a later time.”

           
Cash
took long determined strides to his horse, swearing under his breath and rode
into town.

           
His
stomach rolled over thinking of the conversation with Diane.
 
Spilling his guts did nothing to improve his
temper.
 
The situation did indeed seem
final, hearing the bare truth spoken aloud.
 

           
Perhaps
he should just get plastered and pick a fight, but had to laugh thinking of
spending time in John’s new jail.

           
With
all said and done, he didn’t make a visit to Angie.
 
He rode home feeling no differently than
before and possibly worse knowing it would be hours before dawn when he could
work out in the sun and direct his attention to affairs better suited for his
well-being.

           
Once
Cash loosed Rabbit into the pasture, he stepped onto the covered planked porch
to enter his house.
 
After striking up a
cut-glass oil lamp, he glanced around the first-floor rooms with cloth-covered
furnishings protected from the dust.

           
All
the carpets had been stored above the second-story in the attic space under the
high-peaked roof designed to minimize the accumulation of snow.

           
Aside
from the large kitchen and mud room off the back porch the first floor
consisted of one large room allowing unconfined space and multi-purpose usage.

           
Cash
climbed the stairs located at the right side of the room to enter the master
suite and fell into bed after stripping, to catch a few hours of sleep.

Fifty-five

           
Raeden
relaxed in bed, feet propped on a pillow re-reading the
New York
Times
articles
she had saved and pasted in a scrapbook.
 
She had taken the picture of Cash and the gorgeous Washington whore and
carefully cut her out of the photograph then set her on fire.
 
Her only picture of Cash, she carefully
mounted it in a small silver frame sitting on her bedside table, a constant
reminder of her baby’s father and the man who could make her furious beyond
belief.