Authors: Shannon Drake
Meggie, unaware of the tension between them, shook her head
with concern. "The stagecoach coming north from the railroad usually stops
overnight on the road and then takes the passengers into Gold Town," she
reminded Hawk worriedly.
"She'll find Henry then. I'll instruct him to make arrangements
for her to stay in town at the Miner's Well until he can arrange for someone to
bring her out here," Hawk said.
Meggie
nodded. "Make sure Henry knows to watch out for a young lady."
"We
will. Well, then, we'll be on our way." He smiled to Meggie and led Skylar
out the front door. Sloan, dressed in buckskin as well, was mounted on a large
bay; Willow was at his side. Ten head of cattle grazed there in front of the
elegant Mayfair, waiting to be driven forth with them.
Something
cold touched Skylar's hand. She looked down to see that Wolf had come over to
her. She scratched his head.
"The
roan gelding, named Nutmeg, is your choice, right?" Hawk said from behind
her. "It is the mount you chose to ride into Gold Town behind my
back?"
"It wasn't behind your back," Skylar said.
"It wasn't with my permission."
"I'm rather old to ask permission."
"That's debatable, and beside the point out here."
"The roan gelding is fine."
"Good
morning, Lady Douglas!" Sloan called to her. Willow nodded to her. "I
understand you're taking a side trip into town this morning."
Hawk
nudged her down the steps and toward her horse. He set her up on the roan. She
smiled to Sloan. "I hope I'm not inconveniencing you too greatly."
He
shook his head. "I enjoy being in and near the Black Hills. And every
brief moment of peace and freedom that is left us!"
She
wasn't quite sure what he meant, but he had moved his horse forward, closer to
the house. "Good-bye, Meggie. Thanks for the coffee!" he called.
Poor Meggie still looked so distraught.
"Hawk—Lord Douglas—"
"Yes,
Meggie, I'm absolutely certain that I should be taking my wife!" Hawk told
her. "We'll be back in no time." He waved, whistled to Wolf, then
trotted his horse along the path, circling around the cattle to get them moving
ahead as well. Willow joined him in the effort, and their small party was
quickly moving out of the yard. Skylar rode behind with Sloan, turning to wave
good-bye to Meggie as they departed.
They had ridden some time in silence when Skylar drew her
horse closer to Sloan's to talk. "Sloan, what did you mean by what you
said earlier?"
"About what?"
"Peace and freedom."
He shrugged, then glanced her way. ' 'Not long ago there was
nothing here."
She smiled. "I know something about history. Not long
ago, the Sioux weren't here. They were farther east."
"Ah, but they were forced out quickly by the whites, and
even more quickly, they became some of the best bow and pony Indians
ever."
"You're part of the cavalry," she reminded him.
Once again, he glanced wryly her way. "Hawk and I have
often led parallel lives. But my circumstances were different from his. My
grandfather's name was Granger Tremayne. He was a full general, a hero of the
Mexican War. When the army moved west, his family moved west. My mother was
with a small army escort moving from fort to fort when an Oglala war party
happened upon them. She was sixteen years old when she was taken. My father was
the brave who took her. He was young himself at the time, and when I was a boy,
I remember that they had a very close relationship. My mother remained a feisty
and opinionated soul, but my father had his image and his pride to maintain,
so sparks frequently flew. Like Hawk, I was Sioux as I grew up."
"Sioux then, cavalry later."
"My grandfather was a full general, remember?" he
said, smiling. He shrugged. "My father was killed-in a skirmish with the
Crow. He had asked Tall Man, an important warrior of our society, to see that
my mother and I were returned to her people in the event that something
happened to him. Tall Man returned us to the whites at the fort. I was ten. I
was sent to school, I grew up with other army children. I traveled back east. I
was sent to West
Point.
That's what happens to the grandson of a general, regardless if he is a product
of an Indian attack."
"It still seems that you are more Sioux," she said.
He smiled. "Because I
look
Indian."
"Because of the things you say."
"Maybe I am more Sioux."
"Why do you stay with the cavalry?"
"Ah,
well, that way I know what is going on. And I can do my very best to relay it
to my Indian brothers. Agency Sioux have gone out to try to talk Crazy Horse
into coming to one of the agencies to discuss the sale of the Black Hills. I'm
the cavalry's messenger, bringing the same request."
"Can you convince Crazy Horse?"
He
shook his head. "I know Crazy Horse. He will not come. But he won't resent
me for asking."
"What
happens if you're with troops that are attacked?"
"When I'm attacked, I fight."
"Even
if you're with the Sioux when the cavalry attacks?"
"Lady Douglas, you ask very personal questions."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Now,
what about you? What are you doing out here?"
She
stared at him, her mouth half open. Then she started to laugh.
She
glanced up and realized that Hawk had reined in just ahead of her and was
staring. To her surprise, he said something to Sloan in the Sioux language.
Sloan nodded.
"Skylar, come this way," Hawk commanded.
She
narrowed her eyes, not liking the tone of his voice. Sloan, at her side,
lowered his. "You're heading into Gold Town. We're moving on through with
the cattle."
She
rode around to catch up with Hawk. He didn't speak to her, but nudged Tor into
a hard canter. She followed behind him.
The
entire ride into town was kept at a hard, brisk pace. She was weary when they
arrived, stiff when he lifted her down. He barely set her upon the ground
before heading for the office of Henry Pierpont, attorney-at-law.
Inside,
Hawk spoke to the law clerk and ushered her past the young man. Henry greeted
them both with surprise and pleasure, asking what he could do for them.
"I
need to send a wire to my bank in Maryland with instructions to pass another
wire through to a young lady in that city. Wire first to Harley Gander at my
bank, and please see to it that a hundred dollars is sent as soon as possible
to . . ." He glanced at Skylar, one brow arched. "To a Miss Sabrina
Connor. My wife will give you the address."
Skylar
shook her head, addressing Henry. "Any correspondence, from the service
here and from the Maryland bank, should address Miss Sabrina Connor through Jim
Pike, Pike's Inn, Baltimore."
"As
you wish," Henry said. "I'll get my assistant busy on the papers
immediately. I'll need your signature, Hawk. It'll just be a minute."
He left the room.
"Why
can't you send this money straight to your sister?' ' Hawk demanded.
"Mr.
Pike will be certain that Sabrina gets the money."
"Pike's Inn—it's where my father died, right?"
"Yes."
"Where we were—married?"
"Yes."
"I should remember it well!" he mocked.
"I'm
really sorry that all of this has so inconvenienced you!" she hissed.
"You've got to remember, I didn't even know that you existed!"
"And
I didn't know about you. What an amazing marriage!"
"Again,
I'm sorry," Skylar grated. His temper this morning was such that she might
have imagined the few moments of gentleness he had offered her last night. She
wasn't going to lose her own temper, though.
He was
right. She was coming to know her husband very well, and though she knew he
definitely had his honor, she
didn't want to light a match to his very volatile temper
until this transaction was completed.
When Henry returned to the room, he cleared his throat
uncomfortably. "Hawk, er..."
"Ah, there was another matter you wished to
discuss," Hawk said.
"Yes," Henry murmured.
Men. They seemed to have a private way of communicating
without words, Skylar thought somewhat resentfully. Her husband was instantly
upon his feet. "Let me see that my wife is comfortably settled over a
meal, and I will return to discuss this matter with you."
"I'm really quite all right," Skylar said. She
smiled sweetly. "It would distress me so, milord husband, to dine without
you."
"Indeed?" Hawk countered dryly. "I'm afraid it
would distress me to think of your being bored and taxed by matters that are
not your concern. Come, my dear."
The words were politely spoken, but his grip upon her arm to
help her rise was so determined that she nearly cried out. "You can thank
Henry now for his speed and competence in wiring the money. Few men can attend
to such matters with such swift discretion."
She smiled. "Thank you, Henry."
"My absolute pleasure," he assured her.
"Come, my love," Hawk urged.
The inn was directly across the road from Henry's office.
Despite her curiosity and unease regarding what matter might have Henry seeking
to speak with Hawk alone, Skylar was impressed to see that the inn was a place
so handsomely furnished that she could easily imagine she was back east.
Hawk deposited her at a table, ordered her meal despite her
assurances that she was quite capable of doing so herself, and then left her.
Quickly.
Skylar was starving by the time her dinner arrived, but
unease continued to plague her. Just what might Henry be telling Hawk?
* * *
Henry was waiting for Hawk when he returned, but before Henry
could explain his business, Hawk said, "While we're at this, Henry, I want
some inquiries made."
"Regarding?"
"My wife."
"Ah, yes, of course. I'll see that I have a full dossier
on Lady Douglas as soon as possible. If she, er, is—Lady Douglas."
Hawk's brow shot up. "You mean we're not married? Aren't
you the one who assured me the lady is my wife?"
Henry nodded his head strenuously. "You're legally
married, no matter what. Your marriage license very definitely states your
name, and it is your signature and agreement upon proxy." He inhaled and
exhaled. "Yesterday, I was visited by a very strange young man. He was a
rugged fellow with an ungodly accent. He insisted upon seeing me, then demanded
that I understand him completely before so much as contemplating repeating his
words." Henry paused, then added, "I very nearly threw him out of
here."
"Henry, what are you trying to say?"
Henry reached into his pocket, then offered a gold and ruby
ring to Hawk.
Hawk felt a strange sensation of cold ripping into him. He
knew the ring very well. It was an insignia ring; it had been in the Douglas
family for centuries.
His brother had worn it. Always. It should have been buried
with his remains.
' 'I was to give you the ring, then tell you that your complete
discretion was absolutely necessary."
"My discretion?" Hawk whispered. "My brother
died an agonizing death! What is this cruel joke?"
"I was begged to ask that you use discretion—"
"It is his ring," Hawk murmured. "I saw him
buried; there was an inquest. I nearly throttled half a town, determined to
know the truth." He rolled the ring in his fingers. It was the Douglas
ring David had always worn. He stared at Henry. "What if... if my brother
might be alive ...
how can
I not search for him with all my strength and effort—"
Henry was shaking his head. "Your brother most probably
is not alive. I'd say the factors here indicate a hoax. But if it isn't a hoax,
if any of this is true, Hawk, David was apparently set up. And I would assume
there are a few discoveries he is anxious to make on his own before he lets it
be known that he is not long dead and buried. Anyway Hawk, this strange fellow
suggested to me that David—if he is alive—is well aware of your concerns and
the difficulties here. He would not have you jeopardize negotiations with your
people on his behalf. But..."
"But what?" Hawk demanded. "Sweet Jesu, what,
Henry?"
Henry shrugged. "This strange little man said if there
is any way possible—and here is where things become stranger and stranger—the
man who demanded the ring be given to you would like to meet you 'on the night
of the Moon Maiden at the Druid Stone.' "
Hawk felt as if the blood had been drained from his body. It
seemed that for long moments, he could not breathe.
"This can't be a hoax," Hawk said.
"This means something to you?" Henry asked.
Hawk nodded. The Druid Stone stood on a cliff by Grey- friar
Castle, the stronghold of their particular branch of the Douglas family. The
night of the Moon Maiden fell upon the first full moon after All Hallow's Eve;
this year, in the middle of November. Curious timing—he would have weeks in
which to carry his messages to Crazy Horse and enough time left to take a train
east and board a ship for Scotland and reach his father's ancestral homes in
plenty of time for the date required. If David was alive, he would have planned
so carefully and courteously.
He didn't dare hope. He was still coming to terms with the
pain of his father's death.
Henry cleared his throat. ' 'You realize, if David is alive,
he inherits—"
"I would gladly give anything and everything I own for
my brother's life," Hawk said simply.
Henry smiled. "Well, nothing so dire as that would be
the case. Your father's previous will would fall back into effect, with David
inheriting all Scottish lands and titles while the American properties remain
yours."
"You're sure the wife remains mine?"
Henry nodded emphatically. ' 'Oh, quite sure. Unless you
annul the marriage. Then, if by some miracle David is alive, David would retain
the title, but your young lady would take your lands. It does get rather
complex. And again, Hawk, the chances of your brother actually being alive are
so slim!"