her skull bashed in. “Where are your people?” He worried that her village was near. Someone might come looking for her and spot the senator’s camp.
“They are where they are. I am where I am. I do not care about them.”
“Why not?”
“They say my head is in a whirl. They say my baby is dead when I know my baby is alive. I look for her everywhere.”
“How long ago was your village attacked?”
“How long?” The woman scrunched up the good half of her face. “Was it yesterday? Or twenty sleeps ago?” She tittered some more. “I would count them on my fingers but only half my fingers work.”
Fargo had a thought. “How many winters have you lived?”
“Twenty-seven. Or maybe it is twenty-six. I forget things like that. I forget many things but I never forget my baby.” She turned to the right and the left. “Where can she be? I miss her so much. My heart is heavy.”
Fargo couldn’t get over how old the woman looked. He’d taken her to be sixty or more. “You should not wander around at night. There are bears and mountain lions.”
“Her name is Morning Dew. Do you like her name? I think it is the prettiest name there ever could be.”
“It is a fine name.” Fargo motioned toward camp. “Why not come and sit by our fire? We have food and water.”
“I do not want to eat. I do not want to drink. I only want my girl.” The woman started to walk away.
Boots thudded, and Harris and Clymer came up on either side of Fargo. Their rifles were leveled but they merely gaped.
“Well, I’ll be,” Harris declared. “She ain’t no ghost. I figured she couldn’t be when we saw you talking to her because ghosts don’t talk much unless they’re making spooky sounds.”
“It’s an old Sioux,” Clymer said. “Where’s she going? What’s she doing out here, anyhow? Doesn’t she know better than to walk around in the wild at night? That’s what the day is for.”
The woman turned.
“Look at her face!” Harris exclaimed.
“She’s scarier than any ghost.”
The woman fixed her good eye on Fargo. “Are these your brothers?”
“They are Heyokas.”
“They are clowns? Do they do everything backward?”
“They try their best.”
The woman gave half a smile and a little wave and shuffled into the darkness, singing.
With a start, Fargo recognized the song. It was one Lakota mothers often sang to small children when they tucked them in at night.
“She’s downright peculiar,” was Clymer’s opinion.
“Shouldn’t we stop her?” Harris asked. “She’ll tell her tribe where to find us and we’ll be up to our neck in redskins.”
“Let her go,” Fargo said.
“I don’t mind shooting her. I’ve never shot a female but I’m not hankering to be scalped.”
“No.”
“Whatever you say. I just hope you’re not making a mistake.”
So did Fargo.
12
Senator Fulton Keever was in fine fettle the next morning. He came out of his tent all smiles and saying good morning to everyone. In his wake trailed Gerty, who scowled at the world and everyone in it. Rebecca emerged last and was her usual quiet self. She glanced at Fargo only once, and when she did there were daggers in her eyes.
Fargo hunkered by the fire, sipping coffee. He hadn’t slept well. Add to that his frame of mind over the shenanigans going on, and he was in a testy mood.
Senator Keever came over and clapped him on the back. “How are you, sir, this morning? Have you made up your mind? Are you leaving us and heading back to civilization?”
“No.”
“I won’t hold it against you if you do. But I wish you would reconsider. I hired you for a specific reason. You are supposed to be the best there is at what you do, and I—” Keever stopped. “Wait? What did you say?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Whether by coincidence or intent, just then Owen and his human shadow, Lichen, strolled over.
“Did you hear him, Mr. Owen?” the senator said. “Apparently he has decided to stay with us, after all.”
“I heard.” Owen grinned as if he found it funny. “You’re glad, I bet, all the trouble you’ve gone to.”
Keever coughed. “Yes, yes, of course. I was a little surprised, is all. He seemed so determined to leave us last night.”
Gerty said, “I wish he would. I don’t like people who don’t treat me nice. I don’t like them at all.”
“I know,” Keever said. “I’ve heard you say that a million times. But be a dear and don’t interrupt when the adults are talking, all right?”
“I’ll talk when I want. I’ll say what I want. If I don’t like someone, I’ll say that, too.”
Owen was staring at Fargo. “What’s this I hear about some squaw paying us a visit last night?”
“What’s that?” Senator Keever said.
Fargo nodded. “She was harmless. Touched in the head. But it worries me, her showing up like that. Her village can’t be far. I’m going to look around. I want everyone to stay in camp until I get back.”
“But I have hunting to do,” the senator complained. “I was hoping we could look for sign today.”
“When I get back,” Fargo stressed.
“Surely if a village was close by, we would know it by now?”
“Not if it’s behind one of these hills,” Fargo said to set him straight.
“Damn,” Owen said. “Just what we needed. I’ll keep extra men posted and have the horses ready to light a shuck.”
“This complicates things,” Keever said.
Fargo finished his coffee and put his tin cup in his saddlebags. He saddled up and was just done adjusting the cinch when Rebecca materialized at his elbow.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“You don’t need to apologize for not wanting to die. It shows good sense, and there’s a shortage of that around here.” Fargo smiled to show there were no hard feelings. So what if she tried to use him? He got to make love to her—and wouldn’t mind doing so again.
“Be careful out there. The men are on edge. They’re saying we could be attacked anytime.”
“I’ve been trying to get that through your thick heads for days now.” Fargo forked leather, the saddle creaking under his weight.
“Remember. Don’t trust my husband. I meant what I said about him not being honest with you. I’d say more but if he found out I told you, he would beat me.”
Fargo wondered if she was telling the truth or if this was another of her ploys. “I’m not the lunkhead everyone seems to think I am. I suspect the senator is after gold. Is that it?”
Instead of answering, Rebecca asked a question of her own. “Do you think it’s true? The rumors, I mean? Is there really gold in these hills?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. But only a fool goes looking for trouble.” Fargo gigged the Ovaro. It took a few minutes to find the spot where he had talked to the Lakota woman. The ground was hard and she hadn’t left many prints. He tracked her for half an hour until he lost every trace on a rocky spur. By then the sun was well up and the Black Hills were alive with wildlife. That wasn’t all. From atop the spur he spied smoke plumes in the distance. It could be her village.
Fargo had to find out. Avoiding the high lines, he cautiously wound through the woods. He spooked a doe that
