Dangerous Men (Flynn Family Saga Book 2) (8 page)

Every time she shut her eyes, she
saw her mother’s lifeless body, her blue eyes open and staring.

*  *  *

Dawn came, but the sky was still
gray and threatening.  Maggie brewed a pot of tea and ate a little hardtack. 
She missed the smell of frying bacon and the banter of her friends around the
cook fire.  With a sigh, she packed up and continued along the banks of the
river.

Before noon, the rain returned.  Maggie wore her slicker and watched the sheets of rain march across the
prairie, slanting toward the earth like silver spears.  She looked up at the
clouds that boiled across the sky.  The rain lashed her, and the wind whipped
her slicker around her legs.  She guided Patches through the cottonwoods until
they came to another pine.  She dismounted and tethered him to the tree and
waited, shivering, for the rain to stop.

But the rain didn’t stop.  It
continued all day and into the night.  Lightning darted from cloud to cloud,
illuminating not only the sky, but the earth below as well.  Thunder rolled
across the prairie, and Maggie clenched her teeth against the scream that beat
against her lips.  She shut her eyes and remembered the night her father came
home.  Thunder echoed from the tin shacks behind the saloon where she lived
with Lucy.  Michael staggered up the stairs, swaying drunkenly, dashing all
hope of a normal life.

A solitary bolt of lightning lanced
downward, striking so near that she could smell the singed bark.  Lightning
cracked the sky like an eggshell, and Maggie huddled further under her
slicker.  She closed her eyes and waited out the storm.

Finally, the rain stopped.  A
solitary star winked at her from a small break in the clouds.  Maggie sighed
and fell asleep beside the river whose voice had deepened to a rain-swollen
roar.

In the morning, large white clouds,
like over-sized sheep, drifted overhead.  Maggie’s spirits lifted, and
she whistled as she rode along the river until she came to Windlass Hill.

The mast to which the windlass was
attached had been struck by lightning and split like a dry branch.

Maggie chewed her lip.  “What do
you think, Patches?  Should I go back and tell them?”

The horse turned his head, looked
at her and looked back at the grass that grew at the edge of the trail.

One week out, one week back
. 
She could almost hear Sam’s voice in her head.  She nodded once.  “All right,
Patches.  I’ll keep going for a few more days.”

The next two days were uneventful. 
The third day dawned unseasonably hot and still.  Maggie found three creeks
that fed into the Blue River.  She followed one until she reached a rocky
pool.  The water fell from a rock outcrop about thirty feet high.  The spray
felt cool on her face and rainbows danced in the mist.  Maggie sat on Patches
and watched the waterfall for a long time.

Patches tossed his head uneasily.

Maggie turned him back toward the Blue
River.

Five Indians blocked her path.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Maggie froze.

For several heartbeats, none of
them moved—except Patches, who switched his tail back and forth.

Then, the tallest of the Indians
smiled at her.  “Where’s my little brother?”

Maggie blinked.  “You speak
English?”  Her voice was hoarse.  She cleared her throat.

He nodded.  “Robert Sean Flynn is
my stepbrother.  He’s late.  Is he all right?”

“Your stepbrother?  He never...” 
Maggie’s voice trailed off into silence.

“You’re a woman?”

Maggie nodded.

“You hide it well.”

Maggie didn’t know whether to feel
flattered or insulted.  So, she merely nodded again.

“I am Man Who Sees Far.”  He
grinned.  “My friends call me Sees Far.”

“My name is Mary Margaret O’Brien
Anders.”  Maggie swallowed hard.  “My—my friends call me Maggie.”

Sees Far rode forward and clasped
her hand in the manner of the whites.  He smiled at her.  “Flynn sent a
woman
to do his job?”

Maggie scowled.  “He sprained his
ankle.”

Sees Far sighed with exaggerated
exasperation.  “Did he fall off his horse again?”

Maggie scowled.  “He slipped in the
snow.”

Sees Far laughed.  “Come.”  He
turned his horse and started to ride back toward the trail.  The other Indians
closed in around Maggie.  She had no choice but to follow.

Sees Far smiled at her.  “You must
be his woman.”

Maggie’s face reddened.  She shook
her head.  “Why do you say that?”

“You have his courage.  Come.  We
will eat in my village, and you will tell me of my brother.”

They rode for nearly an hour.  The
sun was setting by the time they topped a small hill.  Conical hide tents
stretched for nearly a square mile.

Maggie gasped.  “If this is a
village, I’d hate to see what your cities look like.”

Sees Far laughed again.  “We don’t
live in cities.”  His laughter faded, and sorrow darkened his eyes.  “We used
to follow the buffalo, but the buffalo die.  I do not think my grandson will
hunt the buffalo.  I do not know what will become of my people.”

Maggie thought a moment.  “My
people also starved in the land where my great-grandfather was born.  They came
across the Atlantic Ocean in ships to this country.  Many have prospered here.”

“And your father?  Has he prospered
here?”

Maggie shook her head.  “My father
is dead.”

“I am sorry.”  Sees Far touched her
hand.

Maggie inclined her head.  “Thank
you.  But I have prospered.  I have friends and useful work to do.  All because
my great-grandfather had the courage to accept what was and seek his fortune
elsewhere.”

“It will be hard for my people to
find a new way to prosper.  No matter where we go, the whites drive us away
again after a few winters.”

“I am sorry.”  Maggie followed Sees
Far into his camp.  He led her to a group of women, who laughed to see a white
woman dressed like a man.

One of the women did not laugh. 
She looked at Maggie appraisingly, the way Sam looked at the greenhorns when
they signed the charter.  She was taller than the rest of the women, and she walked
toward Maggie with the same grace and dignity as the fine ladies Maggie had
seen in Manhattan.

She smiled at Maggie.  “I am Sees
Far’s wife.  I am called Woman Who Dreams.  Sometimes, I dream the future.”

Sees Far spoke to her in a language
Maggie did not understand.

Woman Who Dreams laughed.  “He says
that Flynn is so embarrassed that he had to send his woman to do his job that
he made her dress like a man.”

Maggie frowned.  “I dress this way
because I like it.  And I am
not
Flynn’s woman.”

Woman Who Dreams tilted her head to
one side.  “But perhaps you would like to be?”

Maggie’s face reddened.

Woman Who Dreams smiled at her and
touched her arm.  “It is nothing to be ashamed of, to want a man.”  She looked
at her husband fondly.  “I wanted him for a long time before he realized that
he wanted me, too.”  She turned back to Maggie.  “It was worth the wait.”

“Have you dreamed of her?”  Sees
Far regarded his wife seriously.

Woman Who Dreams shook her head.  “But
I have a feeling about her.  I think she will be a good friend to our people.” 
She turned to Maggie.  “Come.”  Woman Who Dreams led Maggie into one of the
tents.  She handed Maggie a bowl of water.  “Wash.”

Maggie hesitated.  “Where did the
water come from?”

Woman Who Dreams frowned.  “Why do
you ask?”

“We’ve lost a lot of people to
cholera last year.  There is a contaminated creek that runs through a small
farm, not far from here.  The stream runs into the Blue River.”

Woman Who Dreams nodded.  “We never
drink from that stream.  They were dirty people who poured their night soil
into the water.  This water is safe.  It came from the sacred waterfall.”

Maggie nodded.  She took off her
gloves and washed her hands.  She followed Woman Who Dreams back outside.  She
led the way to a campfire.  Women brought food and drink.  In its own way,
supper was as formal as a dinner party.  Woman Who Dreams bowed her head and
spoke a few words in a language Maggie didn’t understand.  Then, she raised her
head.  “I am giving thanks for the food.”

Maggie blinked.  “You believe in
God?”

Woman Who Dreams hesitated.  “Not
the Christian God.  Many things are sacred to us:  the wind that blows the
prairie grass, water that gives us life, the fire that warms us, the earth that
sustains us."

The women served her in silence and
with courtesy.  The food tasted strange, but it was delicious.

Woman Who Dreams touched Maggie’s
shoulder gently.  “You will stay with us tonight and return to Bear In A Man's
Body tomorrow.”

Maggie grinned.  “Is that what you
call the Major?”

Smiling, Woman Who Dreams nodded.

“What do you call Flynn?”

Woman Who Dreams smiled impishly.  “Are
you
sure
you do not want to be his woman?”

Maggie’s face felt hot, and she
stammered.

Woman Who Dreams laughed.

“We call him Eagle Heart because he
has the courage of an eagle.”

Maggie started.  She hadn’t heard
Sees Far come up behind them.  She nodded slowly.  “yes, he does.”  She
sighed.  “I wish I had grown up here.”

Woman Who Dreams lost her smile.  “Our
way of life will not last much longer, Fire-haired Woman.  I am glad we
met before it was lost forever.”

Tears stung Maggie’s eyes.

“But tell me of your
great-grandfather’s tribe across the water.”  Woman Who Dreams touched Maggie’s
arm.

“I don’t know as much about it as I
should.”  Maggie crossed her legs.  “Ireland is a green land, with mountains. 
They are not a high as the Sierras, but they are high enough to keep out the
cold winds from the sea.  The English took away our land and tried to destroy
our way of life.  Some of my people fight, but when they do, they are killed or
imprisoned.”

Woman Who Dreams nodded.  “It is
the same with us.”  Drums began to beat.  Woman Who Dreams stood up in one
graceful motion.  “Come.  I will show you how we celebrate the coming of a friend.”

Maggie tried to stand up the same
way and fell backward.  Laughing, Woman Who Dreams helped her up.  Together,
they left the tent and went outside.  The men sat on one side of the campfire,
and the women sat on the other.  The drums were the foundation for the music
that followed.  It was wild and sad and proud, all at the same time.  Tears
streamed down Maggie’s face as she listened to the chanting and the drums and
the pipes.  The music went on a long time.  The waning moon rose before the
music ended.

Woman Who Dreams touched Maggie’s
shoulder.  “Will you sing us one of the songs of your people?”

Maggie nodded.  She stood up and
cleared her throat.  Silence fell on the gathered people.  She sang the song
her father used to sing, before he went away to war, a song about a strong
leader who protected Ireland from the Saxons.  A tall man picked up his pipe
and began to play along with her.  The melody was wild and sad and proud. 
Tears shone in the eyes of Woman Who Dreams when Maggie fell silent.

Sees Far came around the fire and
looked at Maggie.  He smiled.  “My cousin says that if Eagle Heart doesn’t want
Fire-haired Woman who rides like a man and weeps like a woman, he will
make her his wife.”

“Please tell your cousin that I am
honored.”

Sees Far’s smile faded.  “But you
are in love with Eagle Heart?”

Maggie looked away.

Sees Far touched her shoulder
gently.  “You are young.  Come back when you are ready to choose.  Speaks To
Birds is a good man.  And I can see that you appreciate our way of life.”

“Does he really speak to birds?”

“Yes.”  Sees Far nodded.  Then, he
grinned.  “Now whether they listen...”

Maggie laughed.  She sobered
quickly.  “Thank you, Sees Far.  You have given me a great gift.”

“I have given you nothing.”

Maggie shook her head.  “Friendship
is the greatest gift of all.”

Woman Who Dreams looked at her a
long time.  “I think you will be a good friend to our people, Fire-haired
Woman.  I am glad you came to our fire.”

*  *  *

Despite the late night, Maggie woke
early.  She left the hide tent and watched the sun rise.  Woman Who Dreams came
and stood beside her.  “I had a dream, Fire-haired Woman.  I dreamed of a house
on a hill with a stream winding around it.”

Maggie turned sharply.  “I have
dreamed of the same place, many times.”

Woman Who Dreams nodded slowly. 
She looked northward.  “I saw our children playing together beside the stream. 
I heard their laughter, and I felt a sense of peace I have not known in a long
time.”

Maggie nodded back.  “Whenever I
dream of that place, I feel the same thing.  Do you know where it is?”

“No.”  Woman Who Dreams shook her
head and sighed.  “I don’t even know if it is a real place or just a symbol for
the friendship between us.”

Maggie licked her lips.  “My
children, did they have red hair?”

Woman Who Dreams turned to her and
laughed.  “No.”  She frowned.  “They were very strange, these children.  One
had blond hair.  Another had black hair.  And still another had brown hair.”

Maggie sighed.  “Oh.”

Woman Who Dreams squeezed her arm. 
“It was just a dream.  It doesn’t necessarily mean that Flynn will not marry
you.”

Maggie swallowed hard and turned
away.  “I’m not the kind of girl men marry.  I ride and shoot and train horses.”

“You sound like a very valuable
woman.”

Maggie started and turned.  Speaks
To Birds stood behind her, smiling.  She blushed.

Woman Who Dreams laughed again, but
she sobered swiftly.  “I will miss you, Fire-haired Woman.  In a short
time, you have become like a sister to me.”

Maggie turned to Woman Who Dreams
and nodded.  “I feel the same way about you.”

They ate together in silence. 
Then, Speaks To Birds brought Patches over to her.  He held her saddle over his
arm.  “Do you really need this thing?”  He hefted the saddle.

Maggie smiled at him.  “No.  I can
ride bareback.  But I’m carrying a lot of stuff.”

“The whites always carry a lot of
stuff.  Too much stuff.  When you are ready to travel light, come back to me,
Fire-haired Woman.”  He smiled at her.

Maggie bit her lip.

Woman Who Dreams touched her
brother’s arm.  “Her heart is taken, Speaks To Birds.”

Speaks To Birds shrugged.  “Eagle
Heart is a fool to let you leave his side.  When you come to your senses, come
back to me, Fire-haired Woman.”  He turned and walked away.

Maggie watched him go.  With a
sigh, she mounted Patches and rode away from her newfound friends.  That night,
when she camped, she was more aware of the birdcalls around her and wondered if
Speaks To Birds was following her.  Smiling, she rolled up in her blanket and
fell asleep.

*  *  *

Six days later, she saw the circle
of wagons, camped in a small valley.  Sam rode out to meet her.  He grinned.  “Welcome
back, Maggie.”

Her heart filled so suddenly that
it was hard to speak.  “Thank you.”  She cleared her throat and drew a deep
breath.  “I found the source of the cholera.  It’s a small creek that feeds
into the Blue River.  But a few miles on there’s waterfall.  The water there is
safe, and I got permission from Sees Far to—”

“Sees Far?”

Maggie jumped.  “Flynn, you’ve got
to stop—”

“Sneaking up on people.  I know.” 
He smiled at her.  “How is he?”

Maggie smiled back.  “Married.  And
happy.”

“Maggie.”  Sam’s voice had the edge
of strained patience.  “Do you mean to tell me that you negotiated with the
chief of the Seven Tribes?”

“Is that what he is?  He just
treated me like a friend, Papa.”

“He just treated you like—”  He
sighed.  “Maggie O’Brien, maybe you’d better begin at the beginning.”

Flynn grinned at her.  “That’s what
he always says to me.  But then he interrupts me so many times that I can’t
remember where I was.”

Maggie laughed, and her stomach
growled.

Sam sighed.  “Sit down, and we’ll
rustle up some grub for you.”

Maggie nodded.  She ate a sandwich
made from cold ham and cheese and a biscuit.  She sighed contentedly.  “Thanks,
Frank.  I missed your cooking.”

Frank looked at Sam.  “Hah!”

“Oh, hush.  Maggie will eat
anything.”  Sam grinned at him and then turned back to Maggie.  “Now, start
over.”

“Well, I came to a creek not far
from where my parents are buried.”

Sam nodded.

“It runs beside a farmhouse.  There
were six crosses on fresh graves, and the privy was uphill from the creek.”

Sam nodded.  “All right.  That’s
the source of the cholera.  Now tell me about Sees Far.”