A WORD TO THE WISE
The muffled, sliding sound of Lahn’s hooves moving through grass and the occasional sharp, metallic tick of his shoes hitting rock cut through the still, chilled night air.
“Mississippi,” came a voice out of the darkness.
“It’s me, Reuben.”
Johannes rode up to him, smoothly slipping his Sharps .52 caliber carbine into a cradled position in one arm.
“You’re still using that password Mac gave us? Are you coming in tonight?”
“No, Reuben. As Zeb would say, this suits me just fine.”
Bente and Lahn were standing side-by-side, their noses pointed at the Rockies, a looming, forbidding mass of jagged dark silhouettes rising without texture in the night, blotting out a third of the western sky.
Johannes turned his head in the darkness, looking at the mountains. “It is an enormous, dangerous, wild, exciting, spectacular country, Reuben. Coming all this way we had the support and company of other wagons, more than a hundred brave, strong men and women. From here on, it’s just us. I have a feeling this next leg over that country up there is going to make what we’ve done thus far feel like a close column drill on a parade ground.”
“I suspect so,” said Reuben.
“I’ll be direct, Johannes. Are you going to help with the push over the mountains and establishing the ranch down in the Uncompahgre?”
There was a long silence. “When Johannes Svenson makes a promise, Reuben, he keeps it. That’s why I don’t make many.” He laughed in a sad, self-deprecating sort of way. “That, unfortunately, includes some promises I should have made.”
“And then?” asked Reuben quietly.
“And then, Reuben, my friend, I’m going to be what I am. A cavalry officer, as I was in Denmark. Knew it all along, I suppose, but facing off with that renegade band, the battle on Two Otters Creek, my talk with that Captain Henderson when we met up with the cavalry patrol from Fort Laramie—it’s all a message, a reminder that we are all what we are. There’s no changing it.” He sighed. “And, with Inga gone, no reason to.”
“Got a letter from Prussia today. I just learned my father died in March. He chose me for this, you know. Even though he is…was…thousands of miles away, I had his support.” Reuben felt his throat constricting again.
“We’re all going to die, Reuben. It is the inescapable circle. That’s why it is so important to live when you can,” Johannes paused, “And you still have his support.”
Johannes’words struck a chord. Reuben’s eyes widened.
“Have you asked her?”
Reuben’s mind snapped back from where it had been, somewhere on the other side of those mountains. “Asked who?” And, as he said the words, he realized what Johannes meant.
“That’s what I like about you Prussians. A quick wit.” The two men laughed.
“So? Did you?” Johannes’ tone was serious and Reuben could feel his friend’s intent stare through the darkness.
“I thought about it, but when I inquire if she’s going back to England, she avoids answering. I tried to bring it up twice in the last two days. Each time, something interfered and I have this feeling that she’s glad she didn’t have to answer.”
“Remember back there, that morning at Two Otters Creek?” Johannes voice cracked. “I told Inga we would talk that night.”
Reuben nodded, silent. All too well.
“Are you in love with her?”
“Yes.”
“Then, my friend, a word to the wise. You need to tell her. Moments don’t come often, Reuben. It is the one thing I have learned since first looking in Inga’s eyes, back there on the train to St. Louis.” He sighed and looked up at the sky. “Don’t let a moment slip by, Reuben. You might not have it again.”
Johannes reached a long arm over and slapped him on the back. “The worst she can say is, ‘No.’”