Suddenly the wagon gave a lurch. Fargo steadied himself and moved to the front. “Did you hit a log?” he joked.
Rachel squealed, “You’re awake!” and grasped his hand. “I was beginning to think you would sleep the whole day away.”
Fargo wouldn’t mind more rest but he elected to stay up. “Have I missed anything?”
“A lot of bumps,” Lester said. “Martha thought she saw some smoke to the east a while ago. I looked but didn’t see any.”
“I saw it as clear as anything,” Martha insisted. “I can’t help it if my eyes are better than his.”
“Was it campfire smoke or smoke signals?” Fargo asked.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know the difference,” Martha answered.
“Campfire smoke rises straight up. Smoke signals rise in puffs or small clouds,” Fargo explained.
“Oh. In that case it was campfire smoke. More gold hunters, I’d wager.”
Fargo hoped not. The Nez Perce were riled enough as it was. “Any chance you’ve changed your mind about the Payette River Valley?” he said to Lester.
The big farmer chuckled. “You never give up, do you? Why can’t you understand what this means to us?”
“Why can’t you understand that all of you could be massacred?” Fargo rejoined.
Lester half turned in the seat. “The Nez Perce wouldn’t dare try. We have too many men and too many guns.”
“You could have an entire regiment of troops and it wouldn’t be enough,” Fargo said.
“There you go again.”
“I’m just trying to save your hides.”
“And I appreciate that. But I think that once I’ve sat down with their chiefs for a parley, they will come to terms. We’re prepared to offer the Nez Perce a third of the crops we harvest. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“They might want something else.”
“Like what?”
“The land you’re taking from them.”
“They have so much, I doubt they will begrudge us one valley,” Lester predicted.
Fargo frowned. Once again arguing was pointless. Lester Winston had never been west of the Mississippi River, yet he thought he knew the Nez Perce better than someone who had lived on the frontier for years.
“Don’t look so glum. Be happy for us. We’re happy. Our dream is about to come true.”
“You’re a fool.”
Lester lost some of his good mood. “I’ll forgive you the slur. But don’t make a habit of it. I have the best interests of my people at heart, and we will not be denied.”
“Even if it gets you all killed?”
“Enough. We have listened to you and you have our answer. Be considerate enough to drop the subject.”
Fargo got in one last lick. “I’ll be considerate enough to bury you, too.”
11
Days of slow travel. Nights of hot passion.
That was how Skye Fargo spent the next three days. The farmers treated him as a friend. If anyone regarded his nightly “walks” with Rachel as improper, they were polite enough not to say anything. It didn’t occur to Fargo why until the third evening. He had just eaten his supper and was downing his third cup of coffee when Billy grinned at him and made a remark that explained everything.
“My sis sure will be busy at the stove, the way you stuff food down.”
“The stove?” Fargo repeated.
Billy nodded. “When you’re hitched. I heard Ma say as how she hopes you’ll ask Rachel soon.”
Fargo nearly choked on the coffee.
“Pa says you’ll make a fine son-in-law. He likes that you’re not green behind the ears. His own words.” Billy grinned. “Ma says she figures she’ll be a grandma before she can blink.”
“Hell.”
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you have that funny look? Are you sick or something?”
“My coffee went down the wrong pipe.”
“I’ve done that before. With milk. Once it came back out my nose. Don’t you hate it when that happens?”
Fargo should have seen it sooner. The settlers were being so nice because they expected him to do the right thing. They expected him to wed Rachel. He wondered what Rachel thought. He’d made it plain to her that he wasn’t ready to be tied down. She’d said she understood. But women could say one thing and feel another. Could well be, she secretly hoped he would change his mind and pop the question. “Damn.”
“What was that?” Billy asked.
“Yes, I hate it when that happens.”
Victor Gore was friendly to him, too. Gore acted genuinely grateful to Fargo for helping with the Nez Perce. He came over as Billy was skipping off.
“Tomorrow is the big day. We’ll reach the valley at last. I can’t wait, Mr. Fargo. I will finally be able to get on about my own business.”
“What would that be?”
“Why, I’ve already told you. Visiting my old trapping haunts.”
“You’re not sticking around to help the farmers settle in?”
“I doubt they need my aid. Winston and his people are capable folk. That is the way with farmers. They rely on the strength in their arms and the guidance of the Lord. But not me. I learned long ago that life is a roll of the dice. I’m rolling the die now by coming back here.”
“How do you mean?”
“Oh, only that all of us have taken our lives in our hands, what with the Nez Perce and all.”
“What about Rinson and his bunch? Will they go off with you or stay with the settlers?”
“Why would they stay? They were hired to see Lester’s bunch safely to the valley. That’s all. Once they’ve been paid the rest of their fee, I imagine they’ll be on their way.”
Fargo scowled. It would leave the settlers at the mercy of the Nez Perce, who were not in a merciful mood of late.
“You seem mad. But I assure you it was all worked out before we left Fort Bridger. Rinson made the conditions clear to Winston and his people. I was there. I heard every word.”
“You know what will happen, don’t you, when the Nez Perce find whites have moved in?”
Victor grimly nodded. “I warned Lester. You warned Lester. But he refuses to listen. I was puzzled at first. I thought he must be the most stubborn man on the planet.”
It had been Fargo’s experience that stubborn and stupid often went hand in hand.
“Whether it’s that, or his faith that the Almighty will protect them, or some other reason, I’ve never met anyone so insistent on not taking advice when it’s offered.”
“Thinking like that can get them wiped out.”
“You know that and I know that. But what can we say to someone who goes through life with blinders on?” Victor shook his head. “Some people believe only what they want to believe. You can talk to them until you are blue in the face and everything you say will go in one ear and bounce out again.”
Fargo sighed.
“I never meant for the farmers to come here. A simple remark on my part about how fine the valley was, and Lester seized on it like a dog on a bone. He regards it as some sort of new Eden.”
Fargo gazed across the circle at where the fiddler was warming up for the nightly festivities. “Some people never learn.”
“No, they don’t,” Gore agreed. “And there is nothing the rest of us can do. My own conscience is clear.”
