Rocky Raccoon Ch. 04

I had a son! I looked down at his tiny face and marveled. Doe Eyes was three quarters white, with auburn hair. It was too soon to tell, but he looked like he'd end up being a dark blond.

Smiles A Lot was grinning and a little girl of about four rushed out and straight into my arms. It was the girl from the raid on the village. She had nowhere else to go and Doe Eyes kept her. She'd been told all winter her father was returning, and she took it to heart.

A young boy came out shyly. Smile's son, he was a little over eight now, and had decided since everyone else in the tipi had a father I was his, too. Doe Eyes explained the whole dynamic to me later. Much later. Everyone but her and our son vacated the place for two days to let us get reacquainted.

I watched later as the children tussled and played with the others and wondered what I was going to do.

Dark Horse was well on his way to being the right-hand man of his father-in-law. The War Chief consulted him on upcoming raids and he was a natural planner. Cottonwood looked like she was about to pop and Bluebird was about a month behind her. You couldn't slap the grin off his face.

Skunk had found another wife for a total of four, considered a lucky number, and exactly the right amount to have. His prowess with his weapons marked him as a top provider, and he was a big man in the tribe.

Two days afterwards, Skunk got thrown from a horse he was training and hit his head. He immediately went unconscious and didn't wake up for three days. I thought he might die until on the third day his eyes popped his open and he grinned. "How long?"

"What?"

"How long was I out?"

"Three days."

He sat up. "Not bad. Usually I'm out for a week."

He told me that afternoon he thought it was from the wound that turned part of his hair white. "Bastard caught me with a hatchet. Mon ami, I have never felt a worse pain. Ever since, if I hit my head wrong, it puts me out for days. I'm usually a lot more careful. One of these days I might not wake up."

I talked to a doctor friend about it thirty years later and he said it was most likely a skull fragment pressing on his brain. As long as it was stable, he would be fine but if it got jiggled or pressed it would cause him to pass out and stay unconscious until it went away.

I stayed for six weeks before I had to leave to meet the herd. Again, I tried to get Doe Eyes to go with me and she refused. "One of these days I'm going to invoke my husbandly right and insist."

She looked sad. "And on that day I will obey you. But for right now, let me raise our children in the way of the People. Our time is passing. Only the foolish, the delusional, the very old and the very young don't see it. The whites grow closer every day. When they overrun us, nothing will be the same, and on that day I will be ready to go. I think we may have a few more summers left to enjoy life as it should be. If things get bad, I know you have plans in place and between Skunk and my brother, we will survive."

The aching sadness in her face swayed me. The baby had no idea I was leaving, but the little girl and boy did and were inconsolable. I talked to Tall Spirit, a medicine man, and he set up a ceremony where I officially adopted both children. To pull it off I had to make Smiles a second wife. I had no intention of consummating the marriage, but Doe Eyes was the one who sewed the flap shut with admonitions to do as good as I did with her on our marriage night. Smiles was older and a little thicker but the woman knew her way around a blanket! She was very talented with her mouth and seemed to enjoy sucking me to completion. She made me understand it would be the special thing we shared.

I was really surprised when Doe Eyes did me the next night. I'd never brought it up and she'd never offered, but there was nothing like a little competition to bring out the extra effort. Between them, I never slept through a whole night in all the time I was there. The last night I found them both in my robes, and I was so exhausted I could just barely stay in the saddle the next morning.

Skunk and I took a trip into a new town and stocked up before I left, making sure to include all the sewing supplies we could get our hands on. It was my mission that the tribe never feel hunger during the snows and that all of them were warm. I also made sure they had plenty of ammunition for their weapons. Might made right among warring tribes, and I wanted to make sure mine always had an edge.

Bluebird and Cottonwood had their children and they were both boys. Dark Horse was pleased as punch and his stock rose once again. A few more successful raids and he'd be a subchief for sure.

In a surprise to most of us, Tall Spirit had a vision and named Doe Eyes as the new Peace Chief. It was not uncommon to give the position to a ranking female, and Doe Eyes fit the bill. Her primary responsibility was keeping the tribe out of a war they couldn't win, so she sat in on most of the plans the warriors concocted and vetoed many. Unless she was absolutely sure, she didn't put her seal of approval on anything.

Thanks to me, she was a woman of substance and thanks to her new job, she was a woman of power. Not bad for someone just barely out of her teens.

*****

I met up with Juan Carlos and rode with the herd for a month. We stopped at a small town to resupply and force of habit made me check the telegraph office. I got a reply pretty quickly from the Pinkertons. There was a confirmed sighting and records indicated they were bound for New Orleans and maybe a steamboat ride up the river to stop at noted gambling towns, especially Natchez.

I was supposed to meet my brother there, anyway, so I decided to arrive early. I broke off from the cattle drive and went Southeast until I hit a town with a train station and booked passage to New Orleans. I had to change trains three times, but I arrived less than a week after I got the message. I booked into a nice room in the French Quarter, thinking it was near enough to the gambling dens I might get lucky and spot them, then took my black and rode out to the steam engine factory.

It was on the site of an old plantation, and I could see the remains of a grand house as I rode up the carefully manicured road. I looked out at a field and realized it was being ploughed by a steam tractor. It looked enormous to me, and I stopped for a minute and watched. I didn't even hear the carriage come up behind me on the smooth road before someone spoke.

"Quite a sight if you're seeing it for the first time, is it not?"

I turned to see a man not much taller than Tex sitting on the seat, wearing an immaculate suit. His hair was mostly white, but it was full and he sported waxed mustaches and a Van Dyke beard.

"It is indeed. If you could be so kind, would you direct me to the offices? I have an appointment with the managing director, Mr. Gaston Dupree."

"And you must be the young gentleman from the Wyoming territories. I am Gaston Dupree, and I am most pleased to meet you."

I got off Blackie and shook his hand, giving him my full name but telling him I preferred to be called Rocky. He grinned. "Ah. Just so. You may call me Gaston, young man. Tie your mount to the back and we'll ride up together."

The drive was another half-mile long before buildings hove into sight. There was a large frame structure that had to be the offices, and a huge cavernous building that had to easily be five hundred feet long, a hundred feet wide, and thirty feet high. Smoke was coming out the top in a series of chimneys, and you could hear the cries of men and the clanging of metal.

"The foundry," My host said. "You may tour it tomorrow if you like. First, come into my office and tell me what you have on your mind."

We settled into very comfortable leather chairs and he poured us drinks from a crystal decanter. "Bourbon, from the distillery of a friend of mine in Tennessee. I was one of several who financed his startup and he's been paid in full for many years, but he still sends me a couple of cases a year, usually one of my favorites and something new he's been working on. Should you ever get up that way I'll furnish you with a letter of introduction. It would be well worth your time to tour his facility."

It was some of the smoothest liquor I'd ever tasted. I grinned, thinking what my father would think when he tasted it. I resolved to order ten cases to be delivered to the ranch with strict instructions to leave the boxes crated until I got home. That would drive him crazy, no doubt.

We talked and I explained what I wanted. Something a little lighter in weight than what I had seen, to be used in our potato fields and maybe other things like grain harvesting. He smiled and told me he'd been working on that exact thing to varying degrees of success. I left an hour later with a very good feeling.

Back at the hotel I changed suits, going for something darker to suit the night and gently inquired where I might find a 'gentleman's quiet game of cards'. The concierge directed me to several high-profile places and gave me a note of introduction on hotel stationary.

The first place was a club of quiet elegance. The men were friendly and I did play a little, losing fifty dollars before I said goodnight. This was definitely not the place Bradshaw would frequent.

The club the next night was a little less well-appointed, but the men were friendly and joked as they played. I'd played enough at the end of tracks to think no one was cheating, and I ended up the night eighty dollars ahead. I spent a good bit of my winnings buying rounds for the bar and got backslaps and handshakes when I left. That club would be about as high-end as Bradshaw would get, but no one remembered him playing there.

The venue the next night wasn't a club. It was a bar in a less than desirable part of town, held in the backroom. I had dressed down a little, but they had pegged me right away and tried their mightiest to fleece me. I avoided most of their traps, although I did blunder into enough to keep them guessing. I hit the jackpot when one started talking about a flashy guy from Chicago. "Big sucker with a little blonde woman. She's a looker but a little too hard around the eyes for my taste. If you run into him watch out. He's got the patter down and she'll flash an ankle or bend over letting you get a glimpse of her cleavage, and when you look up, he's got all the cards and you're left holding the bag."

They discussed the guy, trying to look like fine upstanding citizens just interested in watching out for me. I waited until the night was almost over, watching carefully as the man tried to run the deck up. I'd caught him flicking a little finger, sliding a card off the bottom with ease. I don't think they were working together, although the two that were big winners always dropped out if the other raised.

He was about to deal when I stopped him. "That bottom card is bent. It won't be long until we all know what it is. How about a new deck?"

They knew better than to refuse, and I took the old deck and flipped it over, showing the King of Spades with a definite crease in it. There wasn't time to get familiar with the new deck, so it was a straight deal. I got pocket queens with a seven showing and bet. Two dropped out, two called and one raised. I just called. The next card up was a queen and I slow played it. The raiser bet, and we all called. The next card was a seven making me a full house. I bet and everyone thought I had another seven in the hole. I still got three calls and a raise. I raised back and another caller dropped.

The next card was the fourth queen. Everyone assumed I had sevens full, but I still got a call and a raise. The raiser had to have kings or aces full, maybe four of a kind, but the odds of two four of a kinds in one hand were astronomical. I called and raised again. He raised back and the last player folded, leaving just me and the dealer.

I had two pair up and bet. We raised each other until we hit the limit. The gambler grinned and flipped up his cards and it was indeed a king high full house. I pretended to be sad until I looked at my last card. I had deliberately not looked at it and I grinned, tossing the other two queens down. He was shocked beyond words, but he had dealt it so he knew it was square.

It was the biggest pot of the night and I went on a hot streak. By the time the game broke up, I was nine hundred ahead. A pretty good haul, roughly the equivalent of three years wages for a cowboy. To their credit they didn't bitch or complain. Instead they shook my hand and invited me back, sure they would get their money back into their pockets. I declined the invitation for the next night stating I had a pressing social engagement. The way I phrased it made them think it was a woman, and when I declared I'd be back the night afterwards, we were all friends. Needless to say, I never went back.

I did have a dinner engagement, with Mr. Dupree, his lovely wife, and several of his business partners and associates and their wives. The meal was excellent, the wine top notch and the conversation lively. After a time, the ladies retired to the parlor while the men gathered in the library. There was idle conversation until Mr. Dupree turned to me.

"What are you after, Rocky?"

"Sir?"

"For three nights you've been haunting gambling establishments, each progressively less gentlemanly. You do not strike me as gambler, mon ami. More the hunter. Who, or what, are you looking for?"

Besides wanting to do business with this man I wanted his friendship, so I told him and his three companions the whole story. When I mentioned the name Dan Bradshaw, one of the gentlemen went red and rushed out of the room.

Gaston looked pretty stern and I thought maybe I'd made a mistake until he smiled. "Thank you for sharing that, Rocky. I know the memories were unpleasant. Mr Templeton (the man who rushed out) also has a vested interest in Mr. Bradshaw. If he finds him first your quest will be for nothing. Let me tell you the story."

It was very familiar. Bradshaw had shown up flush, but he was dressed far better than his usual attire, was friendly with the men and polite and charming to the ladies. He gave his profession as cotton merchant in town to seek new suppliers for the mills in Chicago.

"We fell for it," said a man sitting to the left of Gaston. "It wasn't until he was gone that we did a little research. At the time there were no cotton mills in Chicago. It was all a carefully constructed plan to scam us of thousands by investing in his nonexistent business. I got cheated out of five thousand, as were most of us in this room. Only Gaston held out, saying he needed to do a bit more research. We should have followed his lead."

Another spoke. "We should have listened to him. Still, while the loss hurt it wasn't enough to make any difference in our lifestyles. Poor Templeton's brother, though, he lost more than money."

They all looked uncomfortable until Gaston spoke again. "Robert Templeton had a nice business and an attractive wife, and Bradshaw tried to take both. He succeeded with the woman and if Robert hadn't found out and confronted him, he would probably had gotten the business, too. As it was, he was no match for Bradshaw and the man beat him so badly he crippled him and blinded him in one eye. The man is in a wheelchair and will never walk again.

Bradshaw and the wife grabbed everything they could of value and left him lying on the floor to die. He was supposed to go shooting the next day, and when he didn't show his brother went to check on him. He almost didn't survive and often says he wished he hadn't.

Reginald moved him into his home and arranged care for him. It took almost a year before he started coming back around. He started drinking and Reginald finally told his staff that the next one that got him a bottle would be dismissed without reference. When Robert sobered up, he started doing the one thing he could still do. Make money. He's quite wealthy now, but still bitter and very few things give him pleasure. I shall arrange for you to meet him tomorrow so you can compare stories. I'm sure he'd like to work together for mutual benefit."

I wasn't sure I wanted to share my hate, but it might be worthwhile to compare notes. The talk turned to my wife. "When you find him, what of your woman?"

"She isn't my woman anymore, and looking back, I'm not sure she ever was. She left me to die on two different floors and my thoughts towards her are not warm and friendly. I'll most likely leave her where I find her, regardless of her circumstance. I want her last vision of me to be my back as I walk away."

That seemed harsh to a couple, and lenient to others. We talked for another hour before the ladies came and collected their husbands. Gaston bid them goodnight and grinned. "Rocky, you will stay with me tonight. There are things yet to be discussed and I'd prefer to do it in private."

"I wouldn't want to..."

"Young man, you may shut that mouth now! It's been a long time since there's been anyone younger than a grandfather sleeping under this roof. The matter is closed."

I looked at his wife, the tiny woman who was all sweetness and light moments before. She giggled and Gaston laughed. "Two things you should know about my wife. She ALWAYS gets what she wants and she doesn't tolerate a lot of backtalk. Besides, she's quite taken with you. Take it as a compliment, most of the younger generation here bore her to tears. She often tells me I should use my engineering degree to manufacture backbones, something she considers poorly lacking in this city. Now say yes ma'am."

I bowed to her. "Yes ma'am."

She giggled again. "A backbone and manners! I may never let you go. Now let's all retire for the evening to digest our thoughts. I will see you at breakfast and you should know I do not tolerate tardiness. Seven O'clock. On the dot."

"Yes ma'am."

One of the servants showed me to my room and I wasn't really surprised to see my luggage from the hotel stacked by the bed. I laid out the suit I intended to wear in the morning to relieve the wrinkles and turned in.

*****

I woke up to giggles, disoriented. Opening my eyes, I saw a very red-faced maid with her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry sir. I knocked and no one answered so I thought the room was unoccupied."

I wondered why she was blushing until I looked down. I'd gotten into the habit of sleeping naked while I was with Doe Eyes and continued the practice. The sheet had slipped of somewhere during the night and there were no secrets in that bedroom.

She'd already gotten an eyeful so I stood. Her eyes got even bigger. "It's quite all right, miss. I think, however, that this should be our little secret. Agreed?"

She flinched suddenly realizing she was staring before she found her voice and the door handle. "Agreed, sir. When you're dressed for the day I will return and tidy up."

I thanked her and grinned as she shut the door, her eyes on my nethers the whole time. I believed she'd be quiet about this episode about as much as I believed it would snow today. In New Orleans. In late August.

Making myself presentable, I made my appearance at breakfast. Mrs. Dupree (please call me Aunt Aggie) gave me an approving look for being on time. After breakfast, we adjourned to the factory to go over our plans for two small tractors. The price was steep but affordable, and if our projections were correct, they would pay for themselves in three seasons. We discussed what kind of accessories we might need, including the design of a smooth bladed plough that looked a lot like a giant shovel, for harvesting potatoes.

Business done, Gaston insisted we go to his club for lunch and I agreed, knowing we were actually going to meet Robert Templeton.