She asked, "Then why do you have that six-shooter in your lap?"
He chuckled and replied, "Ain't in my lap. Got the muzzle resting on the blanket under me. I meant what I said just now about nobody with a lick of sense creeping in on us tonight. I got my gun out for two simple reasons. I have the gun to work with, and this cruel world is afflicted with murderous fools."
She timidly asked how often he ran into them. He told her they were reasonably rare, but that his job required him to brush with more than his share. When she asked him to elaborate, he didn't want to brag on some of his wilder cases, but settled for explaining how he'd wound up over this way to begin with.
She sounded dubious as she asked him if he was sure he'd never even met that wayward wife of Attila Homagy.
He sighed and said, "That's what makes my situation so awkward. Nine out of ten folks, just hearing his wild accusations, tend to wonder if there ain't at least a spark to go with all that smoke. I can say I've never laid eyes on Magda Homagy until I'm blue in the face and no judge or jury will ever find that jealous maniac guilty if ever he manages to get the drop on me."
Minerva proved she was smart enough to teach school by whistling silently and saying, "But if you killed him, even if he drew first, everyone would say you were a home-wrecking killer!"
Longarm sighed and said, "My boss wants me to lie low over here in the Indian Territory whilst he tries to find out who Homagy can really thank for his lack of domestic bliss."
They both laughed as the same thought hit them at the same time. Matty stirred in her sleep and asked what was so funny. Longarm told her softly to go back to sleep as Minerva murmured, "This sure seems a fine way to lie low. How on earth does that child manage to sleep so soundly at a time like this?"
Longarm said, "She's likely tired. Her mother said she was sort of young and carefree. That's how we got you into this, I regret to say. As things turned out, I could have got in this much trouble with no help from either of you ladies."
Minerva sighed in weary agreement and murmured, "It sounded like such a lark when they asked me to chaperone the two of you, as if any of us are ever going to get the chance to be naughty again!"
He started to point out there'd be plenty of time to act as naughty as she cared to in times to come. Then he couldn't help wondering if she was trying to come. It would have been rude to ask a lady why she was moving and rustling like that in the dark. She must have been able to tell from his awkward silence what he suspected she was up to. For she suddenly stopped, sighed, and murmured, "I must be going crazy. My Aunt Ida said the little girl across the way went crazy because she couldn't leave herself alone until the right man came along."
Longarm thought it might sound cruel to agree with a lady who was already confounded enough. He quietly said, "There seems to be something about feeling hurt or scared that makes folks sort of, well... fidgety. Wounded soldiers are always proposing to their nurses, and there's some argument as to whether hanged men stiffen up so silly before or after they hit the end of the rope."
She softly asked, "Are you saying all this has made you feel more amorous than usual, Custis?"
He chuckled and said, "I always feel more amorous than usual. But I got to cover that doorway, no offense."
She stiffened and demanded, "Did you think for one moment I was suggesting anything improper, good sir? I was only asking a question, not extending an invitation!"
He tried to say he hadn't meant to sound dirty. But she'd already rolled away in the darkness to flop down on some piled buffalo robes, and after a suspenseful silence he could hear her breathing harder in time with the softer sounds of what seemed like a frisky puppy thumping its tail by the back door to be let out.
He was mighty tempted to just roll over and help her scratch what ailed her, but he didn't see how he could let little Matty's head fall that far without waking her.
That conjured up a really silly scene in Longarm's head. But he managed not to laugh out loud as he considered how the sassy little gal Minerva had come along to chaperone was really chaperoning her elders without half trying, or really knowing what was going on.
As he heard Minerva moaning in the darkness, "Custis, please!" he softly murmured, "You'll be sorry you ever said that once we get out of this fix alive. But no offense, this is about the last time or place I'd ever risk getting caught with my pants down!"
CHAPTER 14
Longarm hadn't been trying to doze off, but he saw he must have when he awoke with a start to see daylight in the entryway across from them and heard all sorts of commotion outside.
He eased Matty's drowsy head from his lap, and rolled over to holster his gun and stab the tipi cover with his knife. When he put an eye to the puncture he saw ponies swirling in a haze of dust in the center of the tipi ring. Minerva sat up on her pile of buffalo robes to ask what all the fuss was about.
Longarm replied, "Ain't certain. They've run all their riding stock inside the ring for safekeeping and never mind the mess. Some kids from another band might be out to have some fun. On the other hand they might really be worried about something."
A figure appeared in the entryway to call out in bad English that the man, not the women, was wanted at the Do-giagyaguat. So Longarm tossed the pocket knife near her, saying, "Open some more cans and don't eat or drink anything else before I get back, hear?"
Matty sat up, rubbing her eyes, to ask what they were supposed to do if he never came back. Longarm didn't offer any suggestions as he rolled to his feet and ducked outside. It would have sounded hard to point out it wouldn't really be his problem.
He followed his Kiowa guide through the swirling confusion, noting he didn't seem to be under guard as the Indians worked to get set for something ominous.
He found old Necomi and the other Kiowa elders out front of that bi painted tipi, along with five younger Indians dressed much the same with different beadwork. When he heard everybody talking in English he caught on. The visitors had to be Kiowa-Apache, allied or adopted and hence half-ass Kiowa who spoke another lingo entirely. He knew Na-dene, spoken by the so-called Apache, Navajo, and such, was as tough for either a white man or Indian as Arabic or Turkish might be for your average cowhand. You could ask a Comanche or a Lakota what a buffalo was, and while one would say tatanka and the other called it kutsu, they agreed to call the critter something. But Na-dene speakers would ask you whether you meant a buffalo off a ways or in plain sight, grazing, running, or hell, shitting.
Kiowa could only powwow with their little brothers in English or Sign, and Sign being slower, the meeting that morning was being conducted in the hated tongue of the blue sleeves.
Necomi told the head Kiowa-Apache, a scar-faced runt called Eskiminzin, to tell the damned government rider his sad story. So the runty Kiowa-Apache did. He said his own band ranged west of the Wichitas, as close to the reservation line as they could manage without making the Great Father angry. He said they'd been raided more than once by riders who'd sure as hell looked like Kiowa Black Leggings.
Necomi sighed and told Longarm, "Maybe you did not lie about the riders you fought with over by Cache Creek. But somebody is lying about being members of our lodge and we are very cross, very!"
Eskiminzin said, "My Kiowa uncle is not as cross as the women we left back along Elk Creek, throwing dust in the air and calling us cowards because we let the Comanche Police bring our ponies back for us without killing any two-hearted Kiowa raiders! Listen to me, all of you, there must be blood for blood, and one of our pony guards was stabbed in the back by those Black Leggings!"
The outraged Necomi roared, "No Black Legging rider owes any blood to anybody! We just told this other twittering magpie from the Great Father that our lodge has done nothing, nothing, to be blamed for all these silly fights! Hear me, when and if we do put on our paint and follow the warpath again, we will not be stopped by a few shots or less than a thousand enemies!"