Otto's Offer (Lockets And Lace Book 3) Page 8

  Henry stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What about you? Your hip’s always acting up.”

  Otto shook his head. “I get by, Henry, especially when I have help like you’ve been the last several weeks.”

  Henry stood a little taller, and his chest puffed out slightly. “Honest, Otto? You figure I really did help you a lot while I was here?”

  Otto smiled at Henry as he gained a deeper sense of understanding how the years of fault-finding and head-shaking directed towards his youngest brother had affected him. “Honest, Henry. I couldn’t have done it without you. You helped me get ready to go in to town with everyone else to sell my crop, plus you kept this place going by yourself while I was gone.”

  Henry grinned and jerked his head in a quick nod. “I did. I even kept the house clean, especially knowing Pa and Grandma Mary would be coming back here.” Henry’s gaze shifted to look at the Mary Palmer, who now approached the pair. “Hello, Grandma Mary. I’ll put up your horses and get them fed and watered in a minute.”

  “Thank you, Henry. I’m sure my husband will appreciate that. I’ll scare up something to cook for supper right quick.” Mary turned to Otto. “Do you need some of my joint salve to put on after that trip, Otto?”

  Otto smiled in response. “Thank you, Mrs. Palmer, but I made a point to buy my own while I was in town. I’ll put some on in a little while.”

  Otto looked beyond Mary, and his entire body stiffened.

  Libby had followed Mary and stood a few feet behind her. Had she heard their conversation about the joint salve?

  Mary turned and linked arms with Libby as she pulled her forward. “Libby, this is Henry Atwell, Otto’s youngest brother. You can see by his coloring he favors his father where Otto and the next two down from him have the blue eyes and blonde hair of their mother.”

  “Hello, Mr. Atwell.”

  With a stricken expression, Henry’s eyes widened. “Uh, Mr. Atwell is my pa. You best call me Henry like everyone else does.”

  Libby offered him a gracious smile. “Thank you, Henry. My name is Libby Jones, but please call me Libby.”

  Henry’s face morphed to one of confusion. “Jones? So, are you Charlie Gray Cloud’s sister or something? I know about his brothers, but no one said anything about a sister.”

  Libby’s jaw dropped, and she shook her head. “I…I’m sorry, but I don’t know this Charlie Gray Cloud.”

  Catching the tail end of the conversation, Jefferson walked up next to Henry and clapped his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You need to excuse my youngest son, Miss Jones. He sometimes starts talking without thinking about what he should say first.”

  Henry stepped away from his father and faced him with a bewildered expression. He spread his hands, palms up. “What did I say wrong, Pa? She said her last name is Jones, same as Leander and Lyman. And it’s obvious she has some Indian blood in her, just like Charlie Gray Cloud. Why wouldn’t I assume they’re related?”

  Jefferson sighed. “Because Jones is a common name. Many families who are not related have the last name of Jones.”

  Henry frowned, and his body slumped as if deflated. “Oh. Well, how was I to know?”

  Jefferson turned to Libby. “I hope he didn’t offend you, Miss Jones. You see, Leander Jones is married to my niece, and his half-brother, Charlie, has been a good friend to the family.”

  Henry jumped in to complete the explanation. ’His last name should be Jones, but he goes by Gray Cloud because that’s his Kaw name, and he lives on the Kansa reservation with his Kaw wife and children when he’s not working as a scout for one of his father’s freight wagon trains.”

  “I’m not offended, Henry, but there is no relation between us.”

  I should have chosen the last name Smith.

  Libby addressed Otto. “I’m good at working with chickens, Mr. Atwell. Since Henry is not fond of them, I’ll put them where they go and see they have feed and water. Do you have a coop?”

  “Yes, I do. Henry helped me build it. He can show you where it is.”

  Henry snorted in derision. “You mean I built your chicken coop while you stood around and gave orders, don’t you?”

  “But, you know how to build one by yourself without any help now, don’t you?”

  Henry offered a grudging nod. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  Otto’s eyes twinkled with amusement at his brother’s response. “Now, Henry, I need you to help me get these folks settled. It’s been a long drive from Junction City, and I’m sure every one of them is tired. If you could put the feed in the barn where I showed you, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure. As long as Libby will deal with the chickens, I’ll take care of your mules and such, plus help Pa and Uncle Sidney with the rest of the horses. If Grandma Mary needs more firewood, I’ll bring that in, too.”

  “Thank you, Son. I appreciate that.”

  Henry turned Jefferson, a question in his expression. He was not accustomed to hearing praise from his father. “Sure, Pa.”

  Otto smiled at Libby. Thank you for helping with the chickens. And, like Henry said, Mr. Atwell is our father. I’d like it if you would call me Otto. It makes it easier to figure out who you’re talking to when all us Atwells get together in one place.”

  Jefferson spoke to his youngest son, but he turned to Otto with an expression that brooked no argument. “Henry, I know Otto would like to help, but your brother is going to go in the house now. After he takes some pain powders, he’s going to lie down until supper to give his hip a chance to ease up.”

  “Yeah, I know how he gets. I don’t mind helping him.”

  As much as Otto desired to see to his guests for the night, he nodded farewell to those around him in the yard. With his jaw clenched, and wishing for his cane he had hidden in the attic, he hobbled towards the house. He hated that Libby had to see him in his current condition. He knew she must be feeling grateful she chose to work for the Palmers rather than have anything to do with him.

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  CHAPTER 12

  ~o0o~

  Libby rolled over on the pallet in the room across the stair landing from where the Palmers slept. With all that had happened that day, sleep eluded her. She found herself on edge and wide awake.

  Such a day it had been. As the train pulled out of Kansas City on its way west, she could never have guessed that the journey to take her to her new husband would end as it had. Instead of becoming a wife with her own home, she was to be a servant to a sweet older couple who assured her they needed her help, yet she would be free to leave whenever she chose.

  And, yet, she could have been married. Instead of that miserable old man who reminded her of him and who had tricked her, she could have as a husband the devastatingly good-looking man with the captivating blue eyes, only a few years older than she was. He was strong and well-formed, except for a weak leg that she guessed had withered some due to an injury. She suspected she had offended him when she turned down his offer of marriage. If only he understood she had done him a great favor by not tying her life with his.

  Yet, she would be working for some of his family—more of a clan-type relationship than blood, from what she had been able to understand of it. Although Otto and his brother were not Mary and Edward’s actual grandchildren, it was obvious they had a bond closer than friendship.

  Close family, tight-knit—like the family she felt she belonged to while her père was still alive. But, when her mother had remarried…

  No. She refused to think about her past. Only her future counted.

  Libby thought back on the promise the mother superior had made that God would work all things out for her good. Libby did not believe her during those weeks while she was being pushed to marry a stranger. She dreaded the thought of living with a man and being subject to him. She especially felt convinced what she was promised was all a lie when she first heard her future husband spent most of his time in a saloon. As soon as he came a
fter her the way he did, she felt sure God had abandoned her.

  But then, the Palmers stepped in. They rescued her and offered her a job. She could serve them and have the time to decide where she would go next—for she knew without a man to protect her, she probably should not stay in one place long. She had to keep moving.

  It was too bad she dared not accept Otto’s offer of marriage. It looked as though he had already been through enough difficulty in his life without her adding to it. If he knew everything about her, he never would have made it.

  Libby stared out the window at a moon that had almost waxed to full. It was not the light that kept her awake, but she realized there was enough to help her see to walk down the stairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  Not owning a wrapper, Libby pulled her shawl around the shoulders of her night rail. She should be fine. Besides, she knew from the sounds of snoring across the way the Palmers were asleep, and all the men were making their beds in the barn.

  Libby lost the moonlight in the stairwell, but she kept her hand on the wall to guide her down. Not wanting to wake the Palmers, she stepped on the sides of the stairs where they were less likely to creak from having weight put on them. As she reached the bottom, the moon once again shined through the windows of the living area to her left. She turned to the dining area to her right, which she knew would lead to the kitchen towards the back.

  After taking several steps, Libby froze in place. She heard quiet voices coming from the kitchen. She saw no evidence of lit candles or lanterns. From what she could see through the doorway, only moonlight and the orange of dying embers in the open cook stove glowed in the room.

  Libby listened closer. Otto and his young brother spoke.

  Otto.

  A German-sounding name.

  Yet, Atwell did not sound German. Either way, Otto was a handsome man. With his blond hair and blues eyes, his appearance was striking. Young Henry already showed evidence of being a good-looking man, but not in the same manner as his older brother.

  Her mother’s hair was light. It had red highlights in the blonde, curling strands. Her eyes held a lot of green in them, although most people said they were hazel in color. Unlike Otto’s smooth, even skin kissed by the sun, her mother’s complexion held more texture to it and freckled when she spent time outdoors. Her mother said she sometimes envied Libby with her clear skin free of moles and freckles that gently tanned with the sun. However, her mother would not envy her if she knew all the hateful things people spoke about Libby and her “Indian-ness” beyond her mother’s hearing.

  As Libby crept closer to the doorway leading to the kitchen, it sounded like Henry begged his brother to tell a story that had been promised—one about Otto’s time among Indians. A desire to hear the story about part of Otto’s life also arose within Libby. Although she had refused his offer of marriage for his own good, it did not stop her from feeling terribly attracted to him or from wanting to know all she could find out about him.

  Memories of her brother crowded her thoughts. What had it been like for him? Perhaps Otto’s story would give her some clues.

  She knew it was wrong to listen when they did not know she was there. Eavesdropping was no doubt a sin. However, if she ever did go to a Catholic priest and confess her sins, she had so many to speak of, what would be one more?

  The desire for a glass of water momentarily forgotten, like a shadow, Libby crept to a dark corner of the dining room where the beams of moonlight failed to reach. She slid down the wall until she sat huddled on the floor.

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  POWDER RIVER, MONTANA – APRIL TO OCTOBER 1865

  CHAPTER 13

  ~o0o~

  Word came down to Otto and the other men in the 16th Kansas Volunteer Cavalry that a Major General named Dodge ordered the Powder River Expedition as a punitive campaign against the Northern Plains tribes. Troops were to be sent into the heart of their territory. Brigadier General Connor was chosen to lead the expedition. Dodge ordered Connor to "make vigorous war upon the Indians and punish them so that they will be forced to keep the peace."

  Connor chose to organize his troops into three columns—West, Center and East. The 600 men from the 16th Kansas Volunteers found themselves assigned to the Center column under a Lieutenant Colonel named Walker. They were sent to Fort Laramie. From there they were to march into the Powder River region.

  The Kansas volunteers may have fought against the Confederacy, but they had little or no experience fighting the Indian warriors. Yet, within what seemed like a matter of weeks, thousands of men were ordered on a march into a wild territory that had been given over to the Cheyenne, Arapaho and Sioux as reservation land.

  As the war between the North and South wound down, the company to which Otto belonged in the 16th Kansas expected to be mustered out of service like so many other volunteer units. The warning from their officers they might be kept longer to deal with the Indian problem in the more western sections of Kansas did not sit well. Otto’s sentiments matched many spoken by the men in his company, even though he did not say so vocally. Perhaps he kept quiet because there were other opinions many men held with which he did not agree.

  Otto had not found the decision to engage the warring tribes surprising. One reason he had first wanted to join was to keep the hostile plains tribes from attacking white settlers in Kansas. However, his attitude had changed over time. After talking to Charlie Gray Cloud and learning about the experiences of the Kaw people, he could to see the point-of-view of the other side. The whites taking Indian land to turn into farms were the invaders, not the other way around.

  What caused Otto to feel even more unsettled about this particular military operation was the lack of preparedness. The country had been at war for years, and food supplies were poor, at best. There was a train of 140 wagons sent to supply the three columns once they arrived in the Powder River region. However, it traveled with the East column under the direction of Colonel Cole. From what he had heard of the land where they were headed, there was insufficient game to support the tribes living there, without adding thousands of soldiers.

  Carter had been lost to the company due to illness at the tail end of the war while they were still in Arkansas. However, ever since their leave spent in St. Joseph, Otto and Private Ellis had kept close. When Otto mentioned his thoughts to Ellis about the native people, Ellis quietly warned him to keep such opinions to himself since talking like an Indian-lover was not good for one’s health.

  However, after what had happened at Sand Creek, Otto could not agree with those who justified Colonel Chivington. He still felt the man’s actions led to the increase of hostilities. He had known a truce agreement had been made with Black Kettle’s people camped along Sand Creek. He had ordered his men to attack them anyway. Some companies had refused to obey, but that had not prevented the massacre nor the atrocities committed by Union soldiers on the women, children and old men that followed. It turned Otto’s stomach to learn men who claimed to be civilized chose to prove they could be more savage than the supposed savages they sought to destroy.

  The tribes retaliated with a vengeance. Otto knew from the fort built in the center of his hometown of Salina for the year and a half starting in 1864 that the attacks by hostiles had increased. The tribes took advantage of the conflict between the Union and Confederacy to try to win back some of their territory.

  In July of 1865, over a thousand Cheyenne, Arapaho and Sioux warriors attacked and destroyed the bridge over the North Platte River. That meant travel on both the Oregon Trail and the Bozeman Trail all but stopped. Although earlier treaties had allowed for travel along these trails, the tribes had grown more resistant. Too many whites did not merely pass through, but they encroached on their land. Too many livestock traveling with the whites destroyed the grazing grounds and watering places needed by the buffalo.

  That was when the decision was made to keep several of the volunteer units e
nlisted and to send them to the Powder River to subdue the tribes.

  Shortly after the Kansas men left for Wyoming, Otto learned an Army train of 80 wagons with civilian engineers and supplies escorted by another volunteer Army unit also traveled toward the Powder River. Their mission was to survey and build a new road to the gold fields in Montana through Indian land. The Cheyenne and Sioux attacked the train several times in an attempt to drive them away, knowing a good road would bring more whites into their territory. It was General Connor who ended up having to rescue that train after they were held under siege for almost two weeks.

  Otto felt like he could see what the other men in his company either could not or refused to see. He felt no desire to fight for the interests of gold-seekers who ignored treaties and traveled where they were told to stay out, and then demanded that the Army protect them.

  One night at the end of August, Private Ellis flopped down next to Otto. “I’m just about walked out of my boots. How are yours holding up, Atwell?”

  “Not good. I’ve holes in both soles. I keep dried grass in there as much as possible in hopes of saving my socks as long as I can.”

  “Hear mule is on the menu again.” Ellis shook his head. “Those mules and horses they brought from the river valleys just can’t hold up in this high mountain terrain. We’re supposed to be a cavalry unit, but soon we’re all going to be walking.”

  Otto feared the same thing. “You think we’re going to meet up with Cole’s column soon? I never figured out how it was decided to send out three columns, but most of the supplies were to go in 140 wagons with Cole. I’ll bet the colonel is dining high on the hog while we’re struggling to find enough to eat.”

  The Center column did meet up with Cole and his East column.

  On a Friday in early September, Colonel Cole's and Lieutenant Colonel Walker's columns were marching south on the Powder River in Montana. They later learned a village of over 3,000 Cheyenne, Sioux and Arapaho camped less than ten miles away. In a move to keep their village from being attacked, the native warriors struck the volunteers first.