Chapter 17

Cody and the three soldiers staggered back into camp before the break of dawn dirty, hungry, exhausted and even after two days of searching, empty-handed. Not that Cody had expected to capture the rebel Indians with only three greenhorns with him. But he had hoped to at least find a trail, a hoof mark or a damned feather so he'd have an idea where to go looking next.

As Cody ducked to enter the tent assigned to him, a bleary-eyed soldier rode into camp and shouting "William F. Cody. Message for William F. Cody."

"Here, here," Cody beckoned the soldier irritably. "Why didn't you just blow a trumpet? It would have been easier to wake the whole damn camp!"

The man, much older than Cody, reddened at the censure. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, hurriedly thrusting an envelope into Cody's grimy hands. "The cap'n said this was urgent."

Thoughts of further reprimand fled Cody as he saw that the telegram came from Sweetwater. His heart stopped cold as he read the contents of the telegram. Without a word, he rushed inside the tent and snatched the saddlebag he had tossed on the cot a minute earlier. He pushed away the soldier who was taking care of the horses and hurriedly saddled his mount, all while delivering rapid-fire instructions for the group. 

"Will you be back, sir?" asked the young soldier who had gone with him earlier. 

Cody thought of the note and his wife. "I don't know," he answered before spurring his horse into a full gallop.

James Butler Hickok slowed his horse from a gallop to a slow walk, taking a respite from his frenetic journey.  He had been riding hard and fast since he left Abilene at dawn. His aching body, baked by the mid-afternoon sun,  protested the mad pace he set. Tiredly, he removed his hat and wiped his sweaty brow with his sleeve, ignoring the pristine handkerchief tucked in his brocade vest pocket. 

He had received Kid's letter a day late, having been out of town when it came. And to think he had no plan to return to Abilene. But his stubborn horse had thrown a shoe and had drastically altered his plans of finding another town and getting away from delusional gunslingers who dreamt of taking the King of the Hill down. 

He had arrived at Abilene close to midnight and had tried to get the blacksmith to fix the shoe. But the ornery bastard hadn't been intimidated by Hickok at all and had refused to open his shop until morning.

After a brief rest, Hickok spurred his horse into a gallop and resumed the frantic pace he had set. He had never ridden as hard as this since, well, a year ago when Kid asked him to come to Sweetwater because of Teaspoon. All too aware of Kid's I-can-do-it-myself attitude, Hickok knew his friend was in serious trouble when he got the note from K&L.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

Louisa heard the bell calling the ranch hands to supper and knew the family would be sitting down to dinner in a little while. Determined to join them after two days of being confined in her bedroom, she tossed the blankets aside and stood up. The abrupt action made her vision swim and she held on to the bedpost for support. Gritting her teeth, she managed to grope her way towards the bureau where her clothes were kept and pulled out an emerald green dress dotted with tiny red flowers. It was more dressy than what she usually wore, but one look at her reflection in the mirror and she knew she needed all the help she could get.

She was able to toss the dress over her head without too much trouble but she struggled mightily with the buttons, her fingers clumsy in their weakness. After she inserted the last of the pearly buttons into the final slit, she surveyed herself. Her confinement had taken its toll. Her complexion was paler than before and there were shadows under her eyes. Pursing her lips, she wondered how she could improve her appearance. She didn't want to walk into the kitchen and frighten everybody with her ghostly appearance, she thought. She wished she had some rouge. She searched the bureau but found nothing. Shrugging her slight shoulders in resignation, Louisa pinched her cheeks and watched as twin spots of color bloomed. She pressed her lips tightly to get the same result.

She had no remedy, however, for the shadows under her eyes. And Louisa wasn't entirely sure, she wanted them gone. They were her only companions during those dark times when she grappled to cope with the loss of her child.

She was calm, she told herself. If she noticed the tumult in her green eyes, Louisa didn't acknowledge it. Her mind drifted to the early hours when Lou had sat down and had broken the news. She had nodded and had turned away. She had known even before Lou spoke, for she felt the emptiness in her. That night, the questions and the anger had filled her mind. 

Why me? Why now? Why, dear God, would you take my child away? Why did you leave me William? Will you hate me now? Will you stay away longer now that there's nothing to hold us together?

The answers had come in the form of her father's voice. He had spoken of sin. He had spoken of punishment. And he had spoken of vows. 

And then morning came.

<<BACK                                                                                                                                                      NEXT>>