Nate cared for his daughter deeply. She was headstrong at times, but she had a good heart and a peaceful temperament. She was also very much in love—although she wouldn’t come right out and admit it—with a young Nansusequa. “How is Dega doing these days?”
“Fine, I suppose.”
Nate had been home less than an hour. He had hugged and kissed his wife and talked with their daughter-in-law, who was visiting. Then he had come out to stretch his legs and caught sight of his daughter on her way back from the Nansusequa lodge at the other end of the lake.
“The two of you have been awfully close since that day you went off together.”
“We’re friends, is all.”
“Hard to find diapers for a man my age,” Nate said.
“What would you need a diaper for?”
“I must have been born yesterday.”
Evelyn laughed. About to throw another flat stone, she glanced to the north and said, “Uh-oh. What has him in such a dither?”
Nate heard the thud of hooves and guessed what he would see before he turned, and he was right. Riding hard toward them was his son, Zach. They looked somewhat alike, in that Zach had his father’s green eyes and build, but Zach mostly took after his mother and the Shoshone side of the family. “You might want to go inside.”
“Are you two going to argue again?” Evelyn threw the stone, which skipped several times before sinking. “I might just do that, then. When he’s mad he’s not fun to be around.”
Nate walked to the water, hunkered down, and dipped his hand in. He sipped from his cupped palm and wet his neck. As he was rising, his son arrived in a loud clatter and a flurry of dust.
“It is true what Louisa just told me?” Zach demanded without dismounting.
“Unless she’s taken to lying to you, I would say it was,” Nate replied.
“She said she was visiting Ma when you got home. She said there’s a new trading post in the foothills.”
“They’re calling it a mercantile.”
“I don’t like it, Pa,” Zach said.
“I’m not fond of the idea, either, but it’s there and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Zach patted one of the pistols tucked under his leather belt. “Yes, there is.”
“Climb down, son,” Nate suggested, and when Zach alighted, Nate draped an arm over his son’s shoulders. “Listen to me. We don’t own these mountains. We can’t go around running people off because we don’t like them or because we object to what they do for a living.”
“We can if what they do causes trouble. The last time we nearly had a war on our hands.”
“Trust me. It’s all I’ve thought about since St. Vrain told me about the new trader.” Nate chose his next words carefully. His son had a tendency to let his feelings get the better of his judgment and was much too quick to resort to violence. “I’ve met the man. He’s given me his word he’ll be fair and decent and won’t ply the Indians with liquor. So long as he abides by his word, we have no right to interfere with his livelihood.”
“Which is a fancy way of saying we twiddle our thumbs and hope for the best.”
Nate lowered his arm and gazed out across the beautiful blue of the lake. Patience was another trait his son had not yet fully mastered. But Nate couldn’t blame him. He, too, felt a special bond with the mountains and the people who lived there. Many of the tribes were their friends. He felt especially protective toward the Shoshones, who had accepted him as one of their own. “We have to give the new trader the benefit of the doubt.”
“You do, maybe,” Zach said.
“The last time you took the law into your own hands, you ended up on trial for your life.”
Zach’s dark features clouded. “I did what was right and you know it. And aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
Zach gestured, encompassing their valley and the ring of mountains with a sweep of his arm. “There is no law out here. There is no government. There are no army posts.”
“Yet,” Nate interrupted, and was ignored.
“There are no politicians and lawyers to tell us how to live. We’re free to do as we please. Truly and really free, as you’ve impressed on me since I was old enough to understand what being free means.”
Nate didn’t comment. The boy had him there.
“Out here, we live by what we think is right. We have to stand up for ourselves, for what we believe in, and for those we care for.”
“I agree, wholeheartedly,” Nate said. “But you’re forgetting something, too.”
“Which is?”
“That this new trader hasn’t done anything wrong yet. He hasn’t caused any trouble. We can’t close him down and drive him off without a reason.”
Zach put a hand on the hilt of his bowie. “All right, Pa. I won’t do anything, for now. But I’ll keep an eye on things, and my ears open, and if I find out this new trader is as bad as the last, there will be blood.”
Chapter Six
Chases Rabbits was surprised when Long Hair sent for him. He was in his father’s lodge, letting his father admire his new rifle, when a runner came and said that whites had come to the village, and Long Hair needed Chases Rabbits to translate.
Chases Rabbits hurried back with the runner. Two horses with saddles were outside the chief’s lodge, along with a string of four more. So was a gathering crowd of his people. He held his head high and made sure to hold his new rifle across his chest where all could see it. Then he bent and was in the chief’s lodge.
Other warriors were already there, prominent men, the most important in their tribe.
Long Hair beckoned. He had seen over eighty winters and was one of the most revered leaders of the tribe. His name came from the fact that his hair, once black but now as white as snow, had never been cut. He wore it in a single braid drawn up at the back. When he let it down, as he sometimes did at celebrations, it was as long as two tall men lying down head to toe.
Chases Rabbits was deeply honored, and greatly proud, to be called upon. Because of their many dealings with whites, quite a few of his people spoke a little of the white tongue, but he spoke it best. He had his mother to thank for that. She had lived with a white trapper when he was a boy.
Long Hair indicated that Chases Rabbits should sit on his left, between him and the white men.
Not until Chases Rabbits sank down did he look at them and realize who they were. He had to think to remember their names. Then he turned his attention to the great chief.
“You will speak to these whites for us. Find out why they have come. They do not know our tongue and do not know sign. But they smile and are friendly and seem to have something important to say.”
“I have met them,” Chases Rabbits revealed. “They are with the man who has the new trading post.”
“Then perhaps they have come to ask us to trade with them,” Long Hair said. “Question them for us.”
Chases Rabbits turned to their visitors and switched to English. “My heart be happy at seeing you again, Mr. Geist.” He was not so happy to see the other one, Petrie. He had not liked how Petrie treated his friend Nate King.
“Well, this is a stroke of luck,” the blond man said cheerfully. “Chases Rabbits, isn’t it? I’ll be grateful if you can help us.”
“What it be you want?”
Geist was seated cross-legged, his elbows on his knees. He made a tepee of his fingers and tapped them to his square chin. “I have heard about Long Hair. They say he is a great and wise chief. Tell him for me that I am honored to be in his presence.”
Chases Rabbits did as the white man wanted.
“I am here on behalf of Mr. Levi—”
“Me sorry,” Chases Rabbit broke in. “Who?”