The first thing Violet felt that morning was her pillow moving beneath her. Drowsy, her eyes creaked open just as Mei carefully left their bed roll, trying to disturb Violet as little as possible. A figure—Violet could only assume it was Linus—stood at the edge of camp. Mei approached him and the two spoke in hushed voices. The longer they talked, the more awake Violet became, and the more she remembered from the night before.
Violet rolled away from the scene, staring instead at the dusty plains beyond their little campsite. The ache of Linus’s anger was still there, weighing heavy on her heart. That, coupled with the hopelessness of no alternative to taking life, and Violet didn’t feel the need to get out of bed that day.
Footsteps approached from behind. Violet kept her eyes closed, perhaps in an attempt to feign sleep. “Violet,” came Linus’s gentle voice. “Feel like helping me with breakfast?” Violet stayed still and silent. She heard Linus crouch down to her level. “I’d…really like the help. If you could spare it.” Violet contemplated staying silent a moment longer, but torn by Linus’s pleading tone, she turned slightly and opened her eyes. Linus was looking down at her, his gaze earnest and regretful. He offered her his hand. Violet took it.
Linus helped her to her feet, and Violet followed him to the burned out campfire, where spare logs and kindling sat next to their kitchen pots. As Violet prepped the wood, Linus addressed their supplies. For a while, they said not a word, and focused instead on their tasks at hand. Once the logs were ready, Violet rifled through the smaller satchel of supplies and found a box of matches. Striking one, she held it underneath the kindling. Tiny, minuscule flames clung to the twigs, and started to smoke.
“How’s bacon sound?” Linus suddenly asked. He held up a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “We picked up some fresh pig back in town. Should be tasty.”
“Mhm.” Violet knelt down and blew gently into the fire, coaxing it to life.
Linus sighed and crossed his legs, pan in his lap. “I didn’t mean what I said, Violet. Last night.” Violet hesitated, but kept her eyes on the fire. “It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me, was it? To go after you like that. I didn’t mean none of it…”
“No. It wasn’t.” Violet blew one last time. The fire finally took hold and spread strongly through the pit. Violet sat up, hands in her lap. “But…You was right. Partly.” They glanced at one another. “The minute I saw that boy, I couldn’t imagine him doin’ nothin’ to nobody. You were right, Linus. The moment I came runnin’ down towards you, I woulda denied them little girls their justice.” She finally turned to face Linus, her eyes tired. “I won’t get in your way again. I know I can’t now.”
Linus smiled, somberly. “Thank you,” he said. He placed the rusty old hot plate over the fire and filled the coffee pot with beans and water. As breakfast sizzled in its pan, Violet felt the promise of a new beginning, and a far better day than the one before.
Not wanting to dally too long after their snafu in Van Buren, they packed up camp after eating and headed west. As they traveled, the Arkansas trees grew fewer and fewer on the horizon. By the time the sun had pinned the center of the sky, sweat beaded down the back of Violet’s shirt, and she had no choice but to remove her jacket and keep her top collar unbuttoned.
“Hey…somethin’ I can’t figure out,” Violet asked to no one in particular. “If y’all ain’t goin’ back to Van Buren, how’s you gonna get paid for yesterday?”
“Word travels,” answered Mei. “We was supposed to head north to Kansas, but plans got changed. We head south now, down the Rio Grande and through Texas. We got a woman there who can request our money via telegram. Have to linger a few days, but it’s one of our safest spots. This side of the Mississippi, anyway.”
“Texas?” Violet eyed the horizon around them. The sparse landscape and dry earth allowed her to put two and two together. “Wait…Does that mean we’re in—?”
“Indian Territory,” Sitting Bear finished.
Violet shifted on her saddle, a well of worry springing up within her breast. “Will we be safe?” She eyed Sitting Bear. “Present company excluded, o’course, but I doubt all injuns is like you, Bear.”
“You’d be right,” said Linus. “Thankfully, we have you. And Mei and Rory, too.”
“How’s that help us any?”
“Most tribes don’t attack women and children,” Linus explained. “Any brave sees us with two womenfolk and a little boy, they won’t bother.”
Violet turned to Sitting Bear. “Does having you with us help, too? On account of you bein’ one of them.”
Sitting Bear took his typical time to ponder the question before answering. “No. I am different than others we may find. They will know this. If they mean to kill us, it will not stop them.”
Well, ain’t that peachy? Violet thought in misery. Still, there was an underlying current of safety being with the Railwalkers. She had no doubt that if they were mobbed by a rabid band of Indians, they’d pull out some way or another. Hopefully. “And what about Mexicans?” Violet pried. “We’re headin’ down into Mexico now. Ain’t it nothin’ but bandits?”
Linus chuckled. “It’s got more than just bandits, though there’s plenty of those. Plenty of just normal folk, like me or you, trying to get to the next day. In fact, I think you might like Mexico.”
The road traveled through Indian Territory was hot and dry. Greenery went from covering the landscape to forming tiny dots along the horizon. Taking a wild guess at how long Violet had been with the Railwalkers, it must have been getting close to summer, or at least late spring by now. Violet’s lips chapped drastically, and by mid-day, her water canteen was near empty. Her hat, thankfully, managed to block out a good chunk of the sun above, but could not combat the dusty air. When they finally came to a river bank, Violet was the first to indulge in the cold, clear water.
Jumping off Maple, Violet knelt beside the river and splashed her face with big handfuls of water. She drank tirelessly, and soon after filled her canteen until the bubbles died out. “How many days till we get to where we’re goin’?”
“Could be two weeks,” said Mei. “Maybe a bit longer.” She also joined Violet at the river, filling her canister with water. “Definitely before the worst of the summer heat.” Sitting Bear led the horses to water, and he and Rory dipped their hands and faces in, washing the road from their skin. Mei lifted her head and addressed Sitting Bear. “Think here’s safe enough?”
Sitting Bear observed the area. “We are between two nations,” he said. He pointed north. “Cherokee.” He pointed south, down the path before them. “Choctaw. I cannot assume either place is any safer.”
“Fair enough.” Mei stood and dusted off her pants. “Let’s sit a spill and get some food in our bellies. We’ll make camp at nightfall.”
The others agreed, and when night came, they were miles deep into the Choctaw Nation. Despite what Linus had said, Violet formed a rather quick habit of checking over her shoulder, just in case she caught sight of native eyes that might be watching them. Sitting by the fire as Sitting Bear cooked, she picked at a raw potato skin, just to relieve a bit of tension. Her ears were perked for any unusual noises. Every chirping cricket and howling wolf put her on edge, and it was all she could do to keep herself from nursing her pistol.
“Lord have mercy,” Mei drawled, a freshly rolled cigarette on her lips. “You get any stiffer and we could use you for a scarecrow.”
“Sorry,” said Violet. She noticed a small pile of potato skin snowflakes at her ankles. She swiped them away. “Ain’t you a little nervous? At all?”
Mei flicked on her lighter and held the flame to her tobacco. “Not much.” The cherry glowed bright as Mei took her first drag. “Truth be told I was more worried when we were sittin’ pretty in Van Buren. At least if an Indian tries to kill you, he’s honest about it.”
“Hm.” Violet wrapped her arms around her knees. “What tipped ‘em off to us, I wonder? Far as I could tell, we was keepin’ a low profile.”
“I reckon I could wager a guess,” said Linus, kindle under his arm. He set the sticks to the side of the fire and wiped off his hands. “Frank’s new assistant didn’t look too pleased when he got an earful. I’d bet my bottom dollar he’s the one who was tellin’ tales.”
Violet thought back to the nasty desk clerk at the Wells Fargo, and her expression soured. She had a feeling that Linus was completely correct in that assumption. “Guess y’all just gotta be even more careful from now on.”
Linus smiled. “It ain’t just us. You an outlaw now, missy. It’ll be easier for a face like yours, believe me, but you gotta learn real quick who to talk to and how.”
Violet wanted to argue, but found no counterpoint. Though she herself hadn’t exactly committed a crime, she supposed that even association with the Railwalkers was reason enough for a prison sentence. Not to mention she was still wanted for Munts’ murder. Violet’s train of thought derailed as her eyes scanned the camp. “Where’s Rory?” she asked.
“Here!” came a tiny voice from the dark. Rory walked into the firelight, holding a snared rabbit by the ears. He smiled proudly and hung his catch close to the fire. “Might be good breakfast.”
“Ooh, she’s a fat one, ain’t she?” Linus knelt down and pat the rabbit’s long belly. “She’ll make a good stew, at least. Good boy.”
Violet, however, took on a more worried tone. “You went off on your own? In the dark?”
Rory seemed confused. “Yeah,” he said. “Somethin’ wrong ‘bout it?”
“Not really, just…” Violet stalled. “Next time you go out trappin’ while we’re on this land, you bring me along with you.”
Rory frowned. “Why?”
“Well…” Violet shifted. “Because I…I wanna learn how to set up snares. Just the way you do ‘em. Maybe that way you could show me and we could practice.”
Like two lightning bugs, Rory’s eyes brightened. He smiled wide, showing off two holes where teeth should have been. “Yes ma’am!” he agreed. “I’ll show you whatever you wanna see, Missus Violet.”
Violet smiled with relief. “Thank you, Rory. Now get over here and help warm me up. It’s getting chilly out.” Happily, Rory bounced into Violet’s lap, distracting her from the uncertainty that surrounded their camp.
“Right. Now that we got everyone.” Linus went to his saddle bag and pulled out a long spool of rope. Violet looked at it, curiously. He walked ten paces out from the fire and laid one end in the dirt. Walking backwards, he began to lay the entire spool around them, encasing the camp in a wide circle.
“What’s that for?”
“Rattlers,” Linus explained. “They show up more the closer we get to Mexico. Lay down some rope like this—” He gestured to the circle, “—and a snake turns right back around the minute it touches it. Feels like another snake to them, and most rattlers don’t want no trouble.”
Great. Now I gotta worry about rattlesnakes, too. Violet leaned against a smooth rock, Rory comfortable in her lap. The stars were partially covered by blots of gray cloud, rolling in from the east. Off in the distance, a gentle train whistle pierced the night. The vivid image of the Railwalkers racing beside a speeding train was still fresh on her mind. Aside from the morbid consequences of their work, Violet couldn’t help but admire the ingenuity and the coordination required for such a stunt. How long did it take them to manage something like that? How many times had they failed? Despite its reality, something about it was truly beautiful.
The next morning, Rory was more than happy to show Violet his collection of ropes and traps. After breakfast, he led her through the desert brush and back to where he caught his rabbit from before. Just over a hill sat a plot of foliage, made dry and prickled from the desert sun. Violet could see holes cropped up along the earth, made by gophers or rodents or the like.
“Right here.” Rory crouched between two bushes and rummaged the area for twigs. After finding two to his liking—a thick stake and a sinewy branch, split near the top—he stuck them opposite of each other and took out a tiny pocket knife. “C’mere, Violet.” Violet knelt beside him, and watched his tiny fingers work. “See this biggun here?” He held the knife tip to the top of the thick stick and began to carve a small hole. “You gotta make it all the way through. Like a needle.” For such a young boy, Rory handled his knife with surprising skill, and before too long, a complete hole ran through the top, big enough to see through. Putting away his pocket knife, Rory took out a bundle of copper wire and slipped one end through the hole. He fed it through and curled and twisted off the end to the rest of the wire. Using the remainder, Rory made a wide loop and eventually created the same noose with the opposite end as he had with the first, encompassing the core of the wire. Once it was ready to go, Rory delicately set the edge of the loop on the edge of the thin twig.
“Rabbit comes through here.” He pointed to the big loop. “The wire closes in, rabbit gets spooked, and snap.”
“Mighty clever.” Violet touched a tip of the wire with her forefinger. “How’d you learn to do this?”
“Bear, mostly. Some I made up myself. I got this one with rope, and if I find myself a thin tree…” Rory began to ramble about some snare he’d come up with on their travels, when something else caught Violet’s attention. Her eyes roved the hill, and pausing at the top, Violet spotted a dark face watching in silence. The minute their eyes met, the face ducked down out of sight. Violet straightened in alarm.
“Grab your wire, Rory. We best be going.”
“Goin’?” Still, Rory took his trap and stood. Grabbing his hand, Violet raced them back over the hill and towards camp. The others were just packing up.
“We need to go,” she announced. “Right this minute.”
“Something the matter?” Mei asked.
Violet gestured wildly behind her. “I saw one. One of ‘em—starin’. Watchin’ us.”
“One of who?”
“Who do ya think?!” Violet was in a frenzy, her words spitting out faster than she could think them through. “Some savage saw me’n Rory down there by the bushes! We don’t get out now, he’ll be back with his whole dad-gum tribe to skin us all!”
A silence fell like an iron hammer the minute Violet realized what she was saying. All eyes, including hers, swiveled to where Sitting Bear stood. His face had not changed, but his soul—piercing gaze inundated Violet with a burning shame. “Some savage,” he repeated, calmly. He said nothing else, and mounted his mustang.
Linus scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. “I told you, we’ll be just fine. Tribes don’t attack women and children—” Sitting Bear kicked his horse into motion, and sprinted away before Linus could finish his sentence. Violet looked at the others, helpless.
“He don’t think…? Y’all know I didn’t mean to say that Bear was a…was a…”
Mei slipped into her own saddle, back straight and noble. “Sure sounded like it to me,” she said.
“But that’s not what I meant!”
“It don’t matter what you ‘mean,’“ Mei replied. “It matters what you said. Hyah!” Mei galloped off, and Linus and Rory followed suit. Feeling small and misplaced, Violet mounted Maple, and did her best to catch up.
* * * *
Over the next days of travel, the patch of dry and desert land turned back into lush greenery that Violet was more familiar with. The heat remained, and with a wetness that stuck to her skin like frog slime. Sitting Bear had not said a word to her during this time. At night around the fire, Violet tried engaging him, asking him questions and offering him extra portions of supper from her plate. He didn’t bother responding. By the second night, Violet had all but given up trying to make amends.
She and Mei had trained as usual, but there was an unspoken tension around the camp. Violet was reminded of her early days with the gang, and their begrudging attitude toward her presence. By the third morning, the bruises of her training only added to the weight of her guilt, and she felt suffocated by her company.
“We makin’ tracks soon?” she asked, half expecting not to get an answer.
“Just about,” said Mei. “Just gotta pack up the kitchen.”
“Right.” Violet mounted Maple’s saddle and stared beyond the flat field where they resided and towards a thicket on the horizon. “Mind if I stretch my legs a bit? Maple’s been getting antsy.” Maple, in fact, had been rather enjoying herself with the other horses, but no one seemed willing to correct her. Instead, Mei waved vaguely, giving Violet her blessing to head off on her own. Truth be told, Violet might have gone without it.
Hat hanging by the strings around her neck, Violet bounced as Maple galloped towards the thicket. She closed her eyes and let the wind lace through her hair, combing the strands into a wild bramble of brown. Maple slowed as she reached the edge of the trees, and Violet kept her at a decent trot, until they were out of sight of the others.
Descending the saddle, Violet took Maple’s reins and led her quietly through the forest. “What am I doin’ wrong, Maple?” she asked. “I’ve tried sayin’ I’m sorry and all…But Bear is so big. He scares me, just a little. Maybe I tried thinkin’ he didn’t, but…” Violet spotted a pond and let Maple’s reins hang loose. She sat at the edge of the water and let her fingers trail the cool surface. A few tiny fish darted from her fingers and into the dark green abyss. With a sigh, Violet laid flat along the grass and stared at the clear blue sky above her. She felt as helpless as she did back in Redrock, laying in the middle of her family’s field, and twice as lost.
To think, came a voice, back then all I was worried about was dumb ol’ Eustace. Now, I gotta watch every word I say? After all, friends or no, the Railwalkers were dangerous people. Should she be sloppy enough to get on their bad side, who’s to say what they’d do to her? Perhaps they wouldn’t shoot her, but it’d be easy enough to leave her in the middle of the desert with nothing but an empty canteen. Sighing deeply, Violet rolled her head back and stared at the trees upside down.
Something moved.
Violet rolled to her elbows in a second, peering through the trees. She caught glimpses of the movement through the windows between the trunks. A figure bounded from spot to spot, landing on silent feet. Violet stood and pulled the lawman’s pistol from her belt. Hand trembling, she cocked the hammer and held it with both hands. “Come out!” she demanded. “Come out or I’ll shoot!” There was no response at first. And then, Violet heard the distinguishing crunch of someone walking forward.
A young girl stepped into the light. Her feet were bare, and callused against the grass. She wore a prairie blouse and skirt, the hems flaked with mud. A necklace of odd, bright blue beads clacked down all the way to her midriff, and her long, dark hair hung untamed down her back. Violet pulled her gun away immediately, settling the hammer into place. The girl looked no older than fourteen, her brown face round with the blessings of youth. They stared at one another for a time, Violet unsure how to proceed.
“Uh…” Violet stowed her weapon and stood, awkwardly. “You speak English, girl?” She didn’t answer. Violet took it for a “no.” Despite this, she put her hands on her hips and asked, “Was you the one we saw that day? Did you follow us all the way from out there?” Violet pointed, as if to help her get her question across. The girl tilted her head, curiously. “Um.” Her words were cut short as Maple, having had her fill of the pond, came over to the girl and sniffed her curiously. The Indian blinked in surprise, before smiling and reaching up to pet her.
“You like her, huh?” Violet wasn’t sure if she was speaking to the girl or her horse by this point. She stepped forward cautiously. The girl didn’t seem scared. Violet pet Maple’s mane, watching the girl imitate her actions. “Her name’s Maple.” Violet reconsidered her words. She gestured to the horse. “Maple. May-puhl.” The girl stared, blankly. Violet enunciated slower. “Maaay-puuuhl.”
“Maaa-puuul,” she finally repeated.
Violet nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” She then laid a hand on her own breast. “Violet. Vy-oh-lit.”
“Vy-lut.”
“Close enough. And what’s your name?” She pointed. “You.” The girl mimicked Violet and pointed to herself. “Yeah. Your name.”
“Nakishwana.”
Violet felt her head spin. Knocky-what-now? “Na…Nak…Can you say that again for me?”
“Nakishwana.” She paused. “Na-kee-shwa-nah.”
“Na-kee-shwa-nah.” Violet smiled proudly, surprised at her own tongue. “That’s a nice name.” Her eyes wandered to the beads on her neck. “Them’s mighty pretty. You made ‘em yourself?” She pointed to the necklace, and Nakishwana looked down at her jewelry, touching it lightly. She took one of the strands and pulled it from her neck. Surprisingly, she held it up for Violet to take.
Violet pulled back in surprise. “What? No, no, I didn’t mean—they’re yours! I can’t take these…” But Nakishwana smiled with the innocence only a child could have, and stood on her bare tiptoes to raise the necklace high. Without ceremony, she tossed it over Violet’s neck. It clattered as it settled on her collar. Violet noticed the beads were made out of bone and blue stones. Up close, they were truly majestic, swirling with different colors and shapes. Violet ran her fingers down the beads, feeling their weight. “My word…these are awfully beautiful.”
Nakishwana grinned, showing off a few missing childhood teeth. She said something Violet couldn’t begin to understand, and wandered over to the pond. Not bothering to hike up her cotton skirt, Nakishwana jumped feet first into the shallow water of the pond, the fish beneath it scattering. Humming, Nakishwana kicked and jumped, the water twinkling in the sunlight.
“Nakishwana!” Both Violet and the girl turned their heads as a voice called out. More words echoed through the trees. Nakishwana scampered off towards the forest, but stopped as a man blocked her path. He wore a mix of cotton and cowskin in a mismatched cobbling together of civility and wilderness. Two feathers adorned his shiny black hair, and his stern expression was only enhanced by the musket on his shoulder. The girl tried to spin away, but the man took her hand, keeping her there.
Violet stood, her own hand slowly going to her pistol. This was more the type of Indian she worried about. Despite its antiquity, a loaded musket could still do a fair amount of damage. At first, when the man’s eyes fell on Violet, his first instinct seemed to reflect Violet’s own. However, the minute he spotted the beads around Violet’s neck, his hand stopped half way to his gun. Instead, he turned down to Nakishwana and asked her a question. Nakishwana answered, and the man visibly relaxed. Finally, he addressed Violet.
“She say you friend.” His English wasn’t perfect, but it was understandable.
Violet hesitated to answer, but nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “She was just…” Violet gestured toward the pond. “Just havin’ fun, I guess.”
“Is alone?”
“Who, me? Oh um—” On the one hand, divulging her party’s location could end up in gunfire. On the other, a woman alone in the wilderness was bound to attract the wrong kind of attention. With a choice to make, she decided to stay honest. “No. I got my partners beyond that ridge there.” She gestured vaguely behind her. “They’re probably waitin’ for me, I bet.” She hesitated by Maple’s saddle, her eyes lingering on Nakishwana. “How far do y’all travel?”
The man seemed confused. “Travel? What is?”
“Yes. Do y’all…” Again, she made a non-specific motion with her hand. “Go farther than this? Say to the river up north?”
Violet could see his mind working tirelessly to decode her question. “No. We stay.” He waved his own hand, motioning towards the forest. “Safer. Stay away from white man.”
Violet smiled, bitterly. “You know that ain’t a half bad plan, friend.”
A gunshot cut through the air like thunder. Violet, who was ready to say her goodbyes, jumped and reached for her gun. She realized, in utter dismay, that there was a commotion coming from the direction of the Railwalkers. The two Natives were also on high alert, the young man keeping Nakishwana by his side, protectively.
Quickly, Violet mounted Maple and rushed through the trees and out the other end. With her line of sight clear, she saw the Railwalkers surrounded by a small horde of Indians on horseback, circling them threateningly. Without a thought of her own safety, Violet dug her heels into Maple’s ribs and flew towards them, her gun at the ready. She fired wildly into the air, drawing attention from the scene. She had no idea how she was going to fend off a gang of savages by herself, but she’d sure as hell try her hardest. Violet was thundering ahead, driven by her singular goal in mind, when she was halted; not by an attacking Indian, but by a friendly one. Sitting Bear quickly rode to block Maple, Violet’s horse rearing back in surprise at the appearance of his mustang.
“Stop,” he said, his voice forceful. “Do not beget violence.”
“Beget—? The hell are they doin’ then!?” Violet looked back over to the others, and realized with great confusion that none of the Railwalkers were putting up a fight. They sat on their saddles, stiff but compliant, their weapons barely touched. Violet turned back to Sitting Bear, baffled. “What in Sam Hill is goin’ on here?”
“They’ll be escortin’ us, according to Bear here.” Mei shifted in her seat. Violent could sense her discomfort, but Mei remained calm. “We’ll be guests of theirs tonight.”
“Why?” Violet demanded. She eyed the collection of red men with distaste. “We ain’t doin’ nothin’ but passin’ through.”
“We are trespassing,” Sitting Bear corrected calmly. “They want to be sure we mean them no harm. That is all.”
“Well, you can tell your damn friends that we ain’t gonna do shit, so they can just leave us be!”
“Violet.” Mei’s voice was stern, and calmed Violet’s nerves somewhat. Mei slipped from Huī’s saddle, hand on his bridle. “This is a peaceful exchange. And it’s gonna stay that way. Do you hear me?”
Violet was sour. The group of strangers watched her, no doubt ignorant of English, but clued into her distrust. Mei didn’t dare break eye contact until Violet finally yielded. In a huff, Violet dismounted. Sitting Bear, Linus, and Rory did likewise. On their feet, they walked alongside the group of Natives west of the forest that Violet had just occupied. Violet glanced over her shoulder, wondering if Nakishwana and her guardian were on their way to safety.
Violet wasn’t sure if the walk was long or the suspense made it longer. Her feet were sore half way through, as though protesting the direction. The Natives spoke to one another, and occasionally to Sitting Bear, who answered in his usual, slow manner, typically with one or two words. By the time the sun was directly overhead, they had reached the Indian encampment.
It was smaller than Violet had imagined, though what she was expecting even she wasn’t sure. Strange tents were grouped in handfuls. Most crowded around the edge of a creek to the south. The first thing Violet noticed was just how many women were there. Two were skinning hides, another weaving cloth. More were tending to vegetables or meats or fish around a small fire. Children chased each other through the tall grass and in and out of skinny trees. In a strange way, Violet was reminded of home. Much like Nakishwana, almost all of them wore a combination of animal skins and cotton wares, and many more had beads that were similar to the necklace she gave Violet.
The Indians led their horses to the edge of the river to drink with a few other wild mares. Violet felt an uncontrollable urge to snatch Maple’s bridle back and keep her close, but refrained. She had a feeling that any impulsive action would be more trouble than it was worth. Boiling under the surface, Violet sat near the center of the camp with the others and waited. She glared at the passing men and wrung her hands together in her lap.
“Now what?” she seethed.
“Now,” said Linus, “we wait.”
Wait they did. No Indian addressed them for some time. They were given water and some corn meal if they were hungry, but Violet didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d never been one for patience, even less so in such circumstances. She was just debating on pleading to Mei’s own discomfort when a familiar face caught her eye. Nakishwana, barefoot and bright as ever, walked through the camp, seemingly without noticing the Railwalkers.
“Nakishwana!” Violet called without thinking. The girl turned quickly, and seeing Violet, broke into a wide smile. As she rushed to Violet’s side, Violet felt a wave of relief she could not quite articulate. Without a trace of reserve, she threw her arms around Violet’s shoulders and embraced her tightly. Violet was so surprised, she laughed. When they broke apart, Violet spotted the questioning looks of her companions.
“Who’s this?” Mei asked.
“Oh.” Violet looked back to Nakishwana, whose eyes asked the same question. “I met her back in the woods. She gave me these.” Violet held up the beads. “I guess she’s from here…”
Before Violet could explain further, Nakishwana’s guardian appeared, clearly keeping her in his sights. When he saw Violet’s face, he blinked in surprise. “What you do here?” he said, his English stumbling.
Sitting Bear cocked a brow at Violet and then broke into his native dialect. The young man squinted. “You not sound Choctaw. What is?”
“Caddo,” said Sitting Bear. Violet wondered to herself just how different their languages really were. They all sounded the same to her. Sitting Bear spoke again, seeming to ask a question. The young man exchanged a glance with Nakishwana, weary. He answered, his own tongue far smoother than his hackneyed English. Sitting Bear translated. “This girl is the daughter of the tribe’s chief.”
“Chief?” Violet clarified. “What’s that mean? She like a princess or som’mit?”
“In a way,” said Linus. “A chief runs a tribe. That girl there is his heir.” Nakishwana smiled, her hands behind her back. Considering their first run-in together, it would make sense for her to have some sort of escort.
“And where’s this chief now?” Violet asked.
“I reckon we’re about to find out.” Mei was the one who answered, but her eyes were not on Violet. They were pointed straight forward, and Violet followed their line of sight. A man approached on horseback, dismounting just a few feet away from the Railwalkers. His posture was strong and tall, but his face was withered with age. Two long, silver braids ran on either side of his head. A cowboy’s hat, decorated with feathers, kept his face shadowed. First, he approached Nakishwana. The girl embraced him with the same energy as she had hugged Violet. He accepted her easily, even hoisting her from her feet. Violet saw a glimmer of a smile on his leathery visage as they held each other. After the reunion, the man set Nakishwana down and rounded to the “guests.” Sitting Bear, without prompt, began to speak. The old man held a hand, stopping him.
“English is acceptable.” His speech was calculated, like Sitting Bear’s, but less out of thoughtfulness and more out of suspicion. “I am Shanafila, Chief Blue Hawk. I welcome you, travelers, in peace.”
Sitting Bear stood, towering over Chief Blue Hawk easily. “We want nothing but,” he said. “If you allow us, we will be on our way.”
Chief Blue Hawk folded his arms, his brow furrowed beneath his brim. “I am afraid this is not so easy. We have had trouble from white men lately. Riders from the east who bring us bad fortune and destruction.”
“Understood,” said Sitting Bear. “But as you can see.” He held out his hand, presenting the rest of them. “There are no white men here.”
Chief Blue Hawk’s eyes scanned each of their faces. Then, his well-worn features twisted into a delightful smile. “You are clever, brother. What is your name?”
“I am Ku’nu’h-tiwit.”
“Sitting Bear,” Chief Blue Hawk repeated. “It does one well not to bother resting beasts…” His attention was garnered momentarily as Nakishwana tugged on his arm. He turned to her and she spoke quickly, pointing at Violet. Not knowing what else to do, Violet stood, her body tense. When Chief Blue Hawk looked back up, his eyes were glittering in amusement. “My daughter tells me you showed her kindness.”
Violet shifted. “I s’pose…She ain’t nothin’ but a little girl, after all.” What monster would harm one so innocent? Violet didn’t want to entertain the question for two long before she recalled an answer.
“Even so,” Chief Blue Hawk continued, “like must be met with like. We will be sure your intentions are honest, but you are no prisoners here. Let us feed you. Rest yourselves, and be on your way in the morning. From this day on, you will have found friends in us.” His eyes wandered further down until he found Rory, who for the most part had kept himself hidden behind Linus’s waistcoat. Linus’s arm wrapped around him protectively. Chief Blue Hawk said something to his daughter, and Nakishwana approached Rory with a bright expression. She held out her hand expectantly. Rory stalled, and looked up to Sitting Bear for clarification. Sitting Bear nodded. Carefully, Rory took Nakishwana’s hand. The minute their fingers touched, Nakishwana took off, practically dragging Rory behind her like a can on a string. A few laughed at the sight, Violet included. As she watched the children run towards a group of others waiting with a strange leather ball, Violet felt the tension in the air fade away into nothing. There was certainly still some irritation that their travels had been delayed, but seeing Rory with so many his own age was rewarding, in a way.
“Now.” Chief Blue Hawk returned to the rest. “Are you hungry?”
For the rest of the afternoon, Violet and the others were treated like proper guests, and given permission to roam the camp. Rory was preoccupied mostly with play, and Linus joined the women in their weaving, fascinated by their work. Sitting Bear floated from place to place, speaking to the other Natives on occasion. Violet was content to hover and watch from afar, and wondered if Mei would like to join her for a walk around the camp. Mei, however, did not seem interested in leisure, and returned to tend to the horses. Despite the positive outcome of the situation, Mei had an air of frustration about her, though she did not dare voice it. Violet had a feeling that Mei disliked being stopped more than Violet had.
Supper cooked in wide pots as the blue sky turned pink. Delicious smells wafted over the campsite, and Violet found a place to sit for the evening. Nakishwana motioned her to stay close to her and her family, with Rory not far off. Violet noticed that Rory now had three new necklaces, similar to her own gift, and lines of paint on his face. He was red-cheeked and panting, and wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Settling in beside Nakishwana and the chief, Violet lingered on the girl before addressing Chief Blue Hawk.
“Uh…Sir?” She was unsure how one addressed a chief, but Chief Blue Hawk did not seem offended. He turned to her, a pipe in his hand. “How do you say your name again?”
“Shanafila,” Chief Blue Hawk said politely.
“And that means ‘blue hawk’?”
“It does.”
Violet put her hands in her lap and looked down to Nakishwana. She was already eating berries in a small bowl provided to her. “And what’s her name mean?”
“Nakishwana’s name?” Chief Blue Hawk pulled a small box of matches from his pocket and struck one against the side. He rested the flame against his tobacco, puffed twice, and blew a gentle stream into the sky. “Catfish.”
Violet paused. “Really?” Chief Blue Hawk nodded. “Huh…”
“Surprised?”
“A bit. I guess I figured a girl that important would have a name more…um…”
Chief Blue Hawk chuckled, and tapped a few loose ashes from his pipe. “I suppose much of our people do not meet your expectations.”
Violet jolted slightly. Perhaps Violet’s imagination was betraying her, but she felt that Chief Blue Hawk was the type of man who could pinpoint the troubles on your mind as though he knew them personally. For a split second, she could have sworn that Chief Blue Hawk knew of her misspeak the other day. “I guess not…” was all she could respond with.
Sitting Bear lumbered quietly into her line of sight, and Violet lifted her head. Though he was technically a guest of the Choctaws, he still carried supplies and helped prepare food. His expression never changed, but Violet could see a gentleness in his eye she never had before. He must feel more comfortable around his own, Violet thought. Her words came back to haunt her, and that familiar shame welled inside her belly. No doubt why. He ain’t a savage to them…Disappointed in herself, Violet laid her head on her knees in defeat.
“Something troubles you?” Chief Blue Hawk asked.
Violet shifted. “No,” she lied.
Chief Blue Hawk did not reply immediately, and instead took time to enjoy his pipe. It was a curious thing, with beads and feathers dangling from the wide end. “Good. I would hate to have a guest weighed down with worry.” His tone was knowing, almost smug. Violet turned back to Sitting Bear, who was now on his knees, helping to break apart herbs and vegetables. Nervous, Violet stood, dusted off her pants, and walked across the camp to where Sitting Bear worked. She could almost feel Chief Blue Hawk’s smile against her nape.
“Bear?” she called gently. Sitting Bear turned from the pot, hands clutching a bundle of dried herbs. Still, his face was stoic. “Can I uh…” She glanced at the women around them. “Can I have a word?” Sitting Bear hesitated before laying the herbs to the side and standing straight. He excused himself to the women, and he and Violet stepped away from the tents. When Sitting Bear rounded to her, Violet was immediately overwhelmed. So many words she wanted to say struggled to leave her first, which resulted in total, dumbfounded silence. Her mouth hung open uselessly and she tried to articulate with her hands. But she had a feeling that the gestures made it worse. After a few moments, Sitting Bear frowned in confusion.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice found itself and words began spilling in a rapid pace. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, but I know that don’t—I’m still learning things, see, and I know that ain’t no excuse for the way I think about y’all. But after so long of knowing you I shoulda understood what it was I was sayin’. Truth of the matter is, I don’t know you, not really. So that makes me scared. I ain’t never been this far from home, and I sure as hell ain’t never spent this time with no Indian. I’m tryin’ to learn everything all at once, and it’s hard, but I’ll try harder next time. I really don’t think y’all are savages, ‘specially not you.” She held her head as if to keep it from spinning. “All your life you hear one thing, over and over, you hear it from people you love, your family, so of course you think it’s true. I used to pretend I wasn’t scared, but how can I not be? So I—what I mean to say is I—”
Sitting Bear put a hand on her head. Violet stopped her rambling and looked up. She didn’t notice at first, but her eyes had started to prick with tears. Sitting Bear’s expression was kind and forgiving. A few final words managed to slip from Violet’s lips:
“I didn’t mean to hurt you none…”
Finally, Sitting Bear smiled. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. His thick fingers threaded through Violet’s hair, rustling it lovingly. It was like rocks were being shoved off her shoulders, and Violet could breathe easily again. Without reservation, Violet embraced Sitting Bear tight around the middle. He hugged her back.
Food was ready by the time the sun went down. Violet was given a simple, wooden bowl filled with some kind of unrecognizable stew. It certainly didn’t smell awful, it just wasn’t meat and potatoes. She took her seat next to the others, who already had their food. Rory was half way through his bowl before Violet had a bite of hers. Linus had Sitting Bear translate his compliments to the cooks. Mei, who sat at the other end of their row, stayed silent as the grave, focusing on her bowl. Violet frowned. It was one thing to be upset that their schedules were disrupted, but even Violet had grown comfortable in the Choctaw camp by now. Taking her food, she settled down on the far side next to Mei. “How’s yours?” she asked.
Mei grunted, sopping up some of her stew with a piece of bread. “S’food,” she said.
Violet took a few spoonfuls. She detected meat like chicken and some various game, but otherwise could identify no other ingredients. It was, however, quite good. “You sour over somethin’?”
“No.”
“You lyin’?”
“No.”
Violet put her chin in her hand, soup balanced on her knee. “You’ve been mighty hot since the minute we stepped on their grounds. You’re trying not to show it, but I can tell.”
“I ain’t hot.”
“Really?” Violet teased. “Then how’s about a big ol’ smile?”
Mei put her bowl down and rounded to Violet. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“See?” Violet pointed at her. “Right there. Hell, you’re wrapped tighter than a new strung fiddle. What’s got you so wet, Mei?”
Mei snorted through her nose and went back to her soup. Violet wondered if this was just something else she’d keep close to her vest. But after a moment of thought, she spoke. “I don’t like detours.”
“Is that all it is? Shoot, I was a little peeved about that myself, but we’re leaving in the morning, ain’t we?”
“It’s not just that.” Mei scanned the camp with a frown. “We’re vulnerable out here. We keep to a small group, we keep moving, we’re harder to find. What if those lawmen stay hot on our trail and track us down? Not only are we in danger, the rest of these people are too.” Mei scraped the bottom of her bowl and swallowed the last of her supper. “I don’t like involving innocent lives in our affairs.”
Admittedly, Violet hadn’t thought of that, and was now bogged down with new worry. She caught sight of Nakishwana, who sat in her father’s lap, clapping along to someone playing a flute. She imagined a posse of armed men strolling through camp and opening fire indiscriminately. Violet felt a cold chill down her spine at the thought of a bullet meeting Nakishwana’s eyes. If anything ever happened to her because of them, Violet could never forgive herself.
“Maybe we can leave tonight? While they’re all sleepin’?”
Mei shook her head. “It’s better to stay,” she said. “Traveling at night in Indian Territory ain’t exactly advisable. Not everyone is hospitable as Chief Blue Hawk.”
“Oh…that reminds me.” Violet set her bowl aside. “That face I saw days ago…I asked Nakishwana’s guard and he says their people don’t go out that far. Do you think we’re being followed?”
“Perhaps,” Mei nodded. “Could just be a scout, looking for supplies to scavenge. Either way, less of a threat than our normal fare. Still, we’ll keep an eye out as we move into Mexico. We’re going to have to anyway.”
“For what?”
“Bandits. And plenty of them.” Violet’s face must have drained in color, because the minute Mei caught sight of it, she put on a more congenial smile. “Don’t you worry now.” She tapped her faithful rifle at her side. “I ain’t met no gun yet that could out shoot mine. Still, we’ll be careful ridin’ south.”
Violet put her hands in her lap, staring out into the vast, dark landscape. Perhaps her mind was imagining things, but she could almost see details of gun wielding, murderous men on the horizon. “I might need to practice more than once a day,” she figured.
“You just might,” Mei agreed. A little more relaxed, she turned to Violet. “Care to work off your supper?” Violet nodded, and they left the campfire to find a nice, secluded patch of grass to themselves. Like usual, Mei took her stance and asked, “Are you ready?”
Violet, her hat tossed aside, held up her fists and nodded firmly. “Have at it.”
The practice went as expected. Mei danced around Violet’s strikes with ease, and broke through Violet’s defenses with quick precision. Violet, by now, would manage to get in one or two rounded hits by the end, but never much more than that. Still, Violet noticed, she was starting to become less tired at the end of their sessions, and the bruises stung less with every day. After taking a few square hits to the stomach, Violet reared back, winded. Mei allowed her to catch her breath. “Care to stop?” she asked.
Violet glanced up from where she was bent down. The memory of Mei’s first sucker punch was still fresh in her mind. Violet, in her own way, had been waiting for a chance to repay that love tap tenfold when Mei was least expecting it. So as she curled forward, clutching her sore stomach, she noticed with delight that Mei had left herself open and unguarded. Without a word to answer her, Violet leapt forward, launching her shoulder into Mei’s solar plexus. With a great “oof!” Mei collapsed to the dirt, Violet on top of her. There was a confusing mess of arms and mud, but when the pair of them settled down, Violet had remained on top, pinning Mei’s shoulders flat to the ground. Her legs pressed firmly against Mei’s thighs, keeping them still. Violet’s hair, wild and intertwined with bits of nature, fell to one side of her face. The ends barely touched the sharp curve of Mei’s cheek. The moonlight, spread evenly against the mossy floor, painted over Mei’s features like a fresh frost. Violet could almost count every long lash on her eyelids. It was a moment before Violet realized how long she’d been staring.
“I guess you win,” said Mei quietly. Her smile was small, but something about the twinkle in her eye felt deliciously salacious. Violet could feel the strength of Mei’s legs, even while resting beneath Violet’s ankles. Violet had no doubt that Mei could easily knock her off with one hard push, but refrained. Violet could only guess that Mei enjoyed the game too much to end it just yet.
Unnerved, Violet rolled off Mei and fell to the grass. Up above, the starlight winked in and out of existence. A bird danced through the night sky, outlined by the moon. They laid together for a time, listening to the echoes of the camp, and the quietness of the prairie. Finally, Mei sat up.
“It’s late,” she said. She offered Violet her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Gotta make up for lost time tomorrow. Let’s turn in.” Violet agreed, and Mei headed back towards the camp. Violet was ready to follow in her lead, when a rustling caught her attention.
Violet turned, her ears sharp. The world was silent. Her heart pounded, and she peered deeper into the dark. She felt chills run up her spine as she remembered Mei’s forewarning about the bandits that awaited them south of the Rio Grande. And again, she recalled that mysterious face from before. Violet took a tentative step forward, only to realize her gun belt had been left back at camp. She waited for another sign of life, but felt as though whatever it was watching her was holding its breath until she moved on.
“Violet!” Mei’s voice distracted her, and she looked over her shoulder. Mei was motioning her to return to camp. Violet rounded to the brush, but the sensation had faded. Uneasy, Violet forced herself to head back into the firelight.