Maji sidled and pranced, flicking her tail, tossing her head, and the bells weaved into her mane jangled. The tribal dancers had taken the field, drummers drumming, warriors singing, dancing, men and women chanting. With her hand on Maji’s neck, Melody whispered in the horse’s ear and moved her farther away from one of the smelly torches that illuminated the center ring. “It’ll quiet down in a minute. I’m sorry if this is making you nervous. I wasn’t thinking. I guess coming here with all these other horses, and around the…the energy and you coming into season…I’m sorry.”
Melody stroked Maji’s chest and her lower lip tucked between her teeth. Maybe time for me to grow up too. I’ve been play-acting, pretending. Van’s right, most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing.
“And you Maji, you should be grazing in a lovely field with a proper suitor, and a warm barn to keep you safe and out of storms.”
Me too. I deserve a safe place out of the storm. I deserve someone to hold me and love me. I sure as hell deserve more than a dinky wagon. I want a safe place, a place to call my own. A place I can make my own. When Van leaves, I’ll be alone. Really alone. More alone than I’ve ever been before. I don’t want to be alone. Not now. I don’t want to go home and be my parent's little girl. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I have to speak to Van.
“You’re right Maji, this isn’t where we belong. This is for show. It’s not the life for us. I’ll take you home. Do this one last performance. Ignore the stallions in the herd. Ignore the bells and the noise and the milling people. One more performance, just one more.”
She searched the crowd but couldn’t locate Van. He said he’d be over by Ollie’s wagon in time to see her performance. He promised. He’d gone off with Jerry to see the horses, but he said he’d be back in time.
∙•∙
Van tied the little piebald pony off next to Ranger. He had no idea why he’d purchased the little filly; she would never amount to much, but she had a way of holding her head and her tail, she looked proud of herself, even though she was runty and a bit punchy. He told himself he’d make her a Christmas gift to his new niece, Joy. His sister-in-law Birdie, who loved horses, would take the pony in hand and make her a good mount for the little girl.
He crossed the meadow in the dark, dodging the other festival-goers, not paying much attention, and smashed into the back of a dark figure clad from head to toe in black. He tipped his hat and begged pardon and moved on. The man reeked of whiskey and something sour and vaguely familiar.
The Indian dancers were leaving the field as he stepped over the tongue of Ollie’s wagon. The announcer announced through his megaphone the Rain Spirit Dancer. The distant sound of gentle bells followed the announcement. The cheering crowd quieted down to a low buzz.
Melody appeared, a graceful, elegant figure, holding her staff of feathers, clad in her mother’s white, form-fitting leather dress, her hair pulled to the side with a leather ribbon, decorated with feathers of white. Maji, right beside her, stepped high, prancing. Melody turned once, and Maji turned in a tight circle once. Melody danced to the left and Maji mirrored her move. They danced to the right, circled. Melody skipped and twirled in Van’s direction, and they made eye contact. He nodded, and she smiled. She raised her staff and Maji came up on her hind legs and stepped backward, Melody partnered her going forward. Van had never seen that move before; it was amazing. The crowd went wild.
A sharp pain in his side made him think he’d encountered a briar and he brushed at it and felt the sting of a sharp-edged blade on the top of his hand.
A smell, a putrid smell of vomit and whiskey sneaked up on him, wafting over his shoulder. “I gots this knife offin’ a poor deputy what had it stuck in his neck. It’s gonna go right ‘tween yer ribs, let the air out’a yer lungs. But first, take me to that horse of yours. I’m gonna slit his throat, and yer gonna watch him bleed to death.”
“Like hell,” Van said and brought his bent arm back in a swift move, jabbing his assailant in the gut with his elbow. Kramer stumbled back, one hand to his stomach. Van looked around for a way to defend himself. The crowd, including Ollie, Jerry, Mick, and Jim were all watching the show. One of the torches was close at hand. Van lurched for it, but Kramer cut him off, slicing his coat front.
“So, it’s gonna be like that is it?” Kramer said, snarling, slicing the knife through the air inches from Van’s nose. “Well, I got nothin’ to lose. I don’t mind a little play. Give me great pleasure to mess up that pretty face of yours,” he said, lunging at Van, murder in his eyes. Van managed to step to the side to avoid the cut to his jaw, but the wagon behind him didn’t leave him much of an avenue for escape.
“They’re gonna hang me anyway. Might as well hang’ me for killin’ a horse as well as a clod-bustin’ yokel,” Kramer said, coming after him.
Van felt the tongue of Ollie’s wagon on the back of his leg and moved to step over it but lost his balance. Kramer moved in; knife raised, slobbering, giddy, and laughing, he slashed Van’s arm.
∙•∙
They’d started their circle dance when Maji rose up on her hind legs and whinnied, slicing the air with her shod hooves. It wasn’t part of their play. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she came down hard and bounced back up on her hind legs. Melody looked around to see what had frightened her. The sound of another blood-curdling laugh rose above the noise of the crowd.
She looked at Van to see if he’d heard it too. He grabbed for a torch, but a figure in black lunged at him, blocked him from pulling it out of the ground. Melody knew that dark figure. Kramer. The man in black, he was here.
She screamed and charged, her staff drawn and ready like a pike. She charged at the black figure and stabbed him in the back between the shoulder blades with the deer antlers.
Howling, Kramer went down, falling over the tongue of Ollie’s wagon. Van scrambled out from under the skewered corpse and came to his feet. Melody jumped the tongue of the wagon and wrapped herself around his waist, weeping.
“Buxton?” came a man’s voice from the edge of the wagon. Melody recognized the voice. Sobbing, she jumped the tongue of the wagon and ran into the man’s embrace. “Daddy, Daddy Royce.”
∙•∙
Rubbing Melody’s back in soothing circles, her father assured her she had nothing more to fear. “Shhh, now. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Keeping her safe and under his wing, he shifted her body to his side and glared at Van. “What the hell, Buxton? What are you doing here? The sheriff told me about a Van DeVeer fella. He said he’d taken a shine to Melody, come to her rescue. Said he’d joined up with the Millers to follow her around. What game are you at, Buxton? Where’s this Van DeVeer fella? I want to have a word with him.”
Melody pulled away, sniffing back her tears. “Buxton? Daddy, this is Hoyt Van DeVeer. He rescued me twice, Daddy.”
Her father huffed. “Like hell he did. This is Van Buxton. I’m askin’ one more time, Buxton, what game are you at? You been playing around with my daughter?”
Melody shoved herself out from under her father’s protective arm to address Mr. Blue Eyes. Pointing to Van then to her father, Melody demanded answers. “Van, you know my father? How do you know my father? How does he know you?”
Her father took hold of her arm and pulled her back to his side. “This is Van Buxton, Melody. Ryder and I spent two weeks with him and his father Buck, his sister Jo, and brother Gabe, and his wife Birdie-Alice in Portland during the Jones’ trial. He was there with the rest of his family to give Jo his support. You were over in Boise doing whatever it is you been doin’. What I want to know is, what the hell is Buxton doing here?”
Melody slapped her father’s hand off her arm and marched up to Van, coming up on her toes to get in his face. “You? You are Jo’s brother?”
Van nodded, opened his mouth to say something in his defense. She poked him in the chest and he swallowed whatever it was he was going to say and nodded again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shook his head at her and yelled. “Well, why didn’t you tell me your real name straight out? I overheard you talking to the sheriff. I waited for you to tell me your name. But you never did. Why is that Miss Melody McAdam?”
“Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to turn the tables on me. Eavesdropping, spying. You accuse me of playing games? You’re the one playing games.”
The sheriff elbowed his way between them and cleared his throat. “We need to get this body out of here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd that had gathered.
Van drew himself up and adjusted the hat on his head. “I’ll get Jim and Mick; they’ll have a tarp or something. We’ll get Kramer out of sight.”
The sheriff put a hand on his shoulder. “Better have someone look at those cuts. You’re bleeding all over the place.”
Van put his hand on his arm and nodded. He put his head down and stepped around Kramer’s inert body, giving Melody a wide berth.
»»•««
Ollie dressed his wounds, her silence and sour expression speaking volumes. “It’s plumb stupid, is what it is, you takin’ off in the middle of the night. You lost a lot of blood, could be infected. A’course I know you got your reasons and all. But it don’t make good sense you runnin’ away. You done somethin’ to that little girl. She’s more settled when you’re around. She used to take off on her horse and go chasing all over. Well, you seen that with your own eyes, didn’t you? She’s got her feelin’s hurt ‘cause you sort-a played a trick on her. But she was tryin’ hard to put one over on you too. So, I say you two are even. Stay and fight it out.”
“I think I better make myself scarce. Her daddy is liable to come after me with a shotgun.”
“Oh, pooh, don’t take a genius to know Kit is still an innocent. You ain’t the molesting kind. I knowed it right off. I’d bet she didn’t make it easy for you to resist, but she’s still innocent,” Ollie said, tying off the last bit of gauze to his forearm.
“I think I can make it a ways tonight. I’ll layup at Weston. It’s not far from here, and I’ll take the east side of Mt. Emily route. It’s steep but shorter than going back to the Emigrant Road.”
“Well, guess I can’t talk you out of it, so I’ll save my breath. Don’t forget your fishin’ gear. I hope we see you again.”
“You very well might,” he said and put his arm in his sleeve and adjusted his coat, careful not to disturb his bandage. “I’ll be in Cherry Grove a couple of days to see my sister. Then to Baker City and home. You and Jerry and the boys should come to the hot spring. That’s my home. Hoyt’s Hot Spring. You could have a good soak in our hot water pool. Be good for what ails you.”
“I’ve heard of the place. We just might take you up on that. Hoyt’s Hot Spring, sure I know I’ve heard of it. I picked up a flyer or something. It’s around here someplace.”
Van picked up his hat and set it firmly on his head. “Thank you, Ollie,” he said and gave her a buss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“You do the same,” she said, tears pooling in her brown eyes.
Van left Ollie’s wagon and shook hands with Jerry and his sons, being sure to extract a promise of a visit to the hot spring. He skirted Melody’s wagon, cringing to hear her father’s raised voice coming from inside. He tied his bedroll on the saddle horn and tucked the fishing poles and gear next to his rifle scabbard.
“You leavin’?” Sheriff Rutland asked, coming toward him, a voice in the dark.
“Yeah. You need me to stay?”
“No, I don’t. You sure you want to leave it like this?”
“Yup, I’m sure,” Van said. “It’s better all the way round. I’m glad you showed up. I don’t understand what got you here, but I’m grateful.”
The sheriff chuckled and tipped his hat back from his forehead. “I, ah, sent a telegram to her pa. She told me not to, but I felt obliged to let her folks know she’d run into trouble.”
“Ah, ha. I would’a done the same thing. Her folks needed to know someone tried to steal her horse. That horse is a valuable animal.”
“You lied to me,” the sheriff said. “Why did you do that?”
Van snorted, leaning his arm on Ranger’s neck. “Hell, I don’t know. Just bein’ a damn fool, I guess. I’m sorry. Really, I am. I’m sorry about this whole damn mess.”
They shook hands. “No harm done, I s’pose. Her pa rode into town right after Kramer knifed one deputy and cold-cocked the other one. He stole a horse, and I was in the middle of gathering up my gear to go after him. O’Bannon insisted on coming with me once he realized where I was headed, and who I was after. I filled him in on a few details as we traveled.”
“Details like his daughter had taken up with a drifter by the name of Van DeVeer?”
“Yeah, that’s about it,” said the sheriff.
Van took hold of Ranger’s reins.
“See you got yourself a little pony,” said the sheriff, handing Van the lead for the pony.
“Yeah. Gabe, my brother, and his wife have a new little one. Thought maybe she might need a pony in a year or two. Gabe’s wife loves horses. She’ll have this little piebald whipped into shape in no time.”
“Well, have a safe journey home. Whenever you’re in Pendleton, look me up. I’d like to hear how this all ends up.”
“You’re lookin’ at it,” Van said and mounted, grumbling under his breath.
The sheriff wagged his finger at him. “I don’t think so. That little girl rushed to save your bacon. Women who don’t care about a fella don’t do that,” he said over his shoulder, walking away.
∙•∙
“I don’t want to hear another word of protest. This does it, Melody. You are coming home with me,” her father said, pacing the short length of the floor in her wagon. Seated with legs folded ankles to knees, Melody sniffed back her tears and nodded.
“When we got Rutland’s telegram—horse thieves, broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, your mother and I…we were panic-stricken. We’ve been afraid of this very thing. It’s not safe for a young woman to be on her own running around with a traveling show. Not safe. No more, Melody. No more!”
He stopped in mid-stride to glare at her. “You look, I don’t know what it is, but you look different. I hardly recognized you. If you were taller, I’d say you look like your big sister, Tru. Must be the dress. Where did you get that costume?”
Melody swiped the tears from her cheeks and met his glare with a glare of her own. “It’s not a costume,” she said, chin up. “It’s my mother’s wedding dress.”
“Your mother? Cleantha? Not Cleantha. You mean your mother, mother.”
“Yes, the woman who gave birth to me. Minola gave this dress to Tru a long time ago. I saw her put it away in her bureau. I took it the last time I was home.”
“You took it? You stole it. Melody McAdam, what the hell is wrong with you? Why do you do these things? Wearing boys’ clothes, trick riding in a traveling show, getting mixed up with horse thieves, and now going and talking to that old crone on your own. Are you trying to kill me?”
“I had to talk to her. She’s the only one who knows about this dress. She gave it to Tru. It had to be important. I had to find out. She made it for my mother for her wedding day.”
He sat down beside her, his head bowed, his hands clasped together, hanging down between his knees. “How is the old…Minola?”
“She’s well,” Melody said, braiding and unbraiding the fringe around the bottom of the leather dress. “I brought her some coffee and herbs.”
He sighed. “I didn’t realize you thought of your parents much. You’ve never said anything—asked about them.”
“I have nightmares sometimes. This last year, on my own, I’ve been more aware of…of my origins. It started at the school.”
He groaned and put his head in his hands. “Damn, Melody, I can’t apologize enough for not pulling you out of that school sooner. We had no idea how bad it was. You never said anything. Oh, I guess we knew it wasn’t great. But you wanted to be with Grace and Twyla-Rose, so we…well, we failed you, is what we did,” he said and folded her within his arms.
“I’m sorry. So tell me,” he said pulling back, “you really didn’t know Van was Jo’s brother? But he knew you were Ryder’s sister, but he didn’t let on he knew?”
She shot up and started to sort through her clothes, looking for her trousers and flannel shirt. “The rat, he knew all along who I was. He kept calling me Kit, but he knew. Kit’s the name I used when I first joined up with the Millers. I’ve got a few words I need to say to Mr. Van Buxton. Where is he?”
“Royce?” the sheriff said from outside the wagon. “I’m gonna go see where the Millers have put the body.”
“Sheriff?” Melody said, drawing back the flap of the wagon. “Have you seen Van? I want to have a few words with him.”
The sheriff tipped his hat to her. “He’s gone, Ma’am. Packed his gear and gone. Don’t need him for anything on my end. You’re free to go too. Sorry we didn’t catch up to Kramer sooner. Your father’s a good tracker. I was happy to have him along. I’ll go find a place to bed down.”
“Good night, John,” her father said over her shoulder. Melody ducked under his arm and drew the dress over her head. She rolled it up and stuffed it back in its leather pouch.
“Thank you for letting us know…sending the telegram,” her father said to the sheriff.
When her father turned around, she had on her flannel shirt and was pulling on her trousers. “Coward,” she said under her breath buttoning her shirt. “Leave me without a word,” fastening the front of her trousers. “That’s the thanks I get for saving his sorry hide,” fighting to right the sleeves of her jacket. “Abandon me. Sleep with me, then leave. Coward, lying coward. Couldn’t face me, apologize for deceiving me—no. He leaves, takes off in the middle of the night.”
“Melody? You slept with Van? He—he—you and Van?” Her father spun her around by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. “You tell me right now. Did you sleep with Van Buxton?”
The shake rattled her brain and her eyes, making everything blurry. She’d been living alone for so long, she’d forgotten about her habit of talking aloud to herself. “What? Well, yes,” she said. “We slept together but…”
“Hell, and damn the dirty skunk. He’s run off. I’ll track him down and string him up by his heels over the barn door. I’ll strip hide off him and use his dried hide for boot laces.”
She caught him by the back-waist of his trousers before he could bail out of the wagon. “Wait, Daddy! Wait, we slept together that’s all. Sleep, we talked, and that’s all. There was thunder and lightning. I hate thunder and lightning. Van does too.”