Page 45 of Sure as Shooting

Tenaya spoke in a mixture of Grizzly and Spanish, letting on that he knew far more of that latter language than he’d ever admitted. “Yes, sir American, you can now tell your warriors to kill the old chief. You’ve made me sorrowful and my life dark! You killed the child of my heart—why not kill the father? When I am dead I will call to my people to come to you. I will call louder than you have heard me call. They shall hear me in their sleep and come to avenge the death of their chief and his son.”

“Tenaya!” Huntley was becoming exasperated. “We have punished those responsible for your son’s death. Not every American here was in agreement with his actions. Most of us found his actions highly offensive, and it was not our plan to—”

But Tenaya was stirred into a sublime lather and would not quit. “You may kill me, sir Major, but you may not live in peace. My spirit will be among the rocks, the waterfalls, in the rivers.” The chief appeared many years younger with the strength of his harangue.

A fresh respect for Tenaya erupted in Huntley’s heart. “Old Sachem!” Huntley cried. “We have no wish to kill you. I am sorry if that is your wish, but it is not our wish. We will keep you safe until you can get onto the Fresno reservation.”

Belle stepped forward a half step. “Yes, Old Sachem! The murder of your son was a sad error and mistake by only two or three men. The men responsible will be haunted by your son’s spirit forever! They will fear his spirit and grow cold whenever a breeze passes by.”

Perhaps Belle’s words soothed him, for now Tenaya proclaimed, “The great spirits have spoken! I am done.” And, as though the spirit had suddenly left him, he slumped back into Terrell’s arms, prepared to be dragged to the tent.

Huntley caught Boling’s sleeve and said, “The old sachem looks hungry. See he gets an extra ration or two, and secure him so he won’t have a chance to escape.”

Boling said, “I understood most of what he said. For speechmaking, that old powwow can beat me all hollow.”

The trio walked in silence on a smooth pathway to a nearby summit. Here the narrow silver gleams of the Merced River wound beneath the lofty walls. A grand waterfall tumbled into a goblet-shaped recess from a granite dome. It was a gauzy, windless day, and for that Huntley was thankful. He tapped his pipe against a rock, but Whit was the first to speak.

“It’s true, Huntley. Belle has agreed to marry me.”

Huntley’s stomach lurched. Why had they dragged him all the way up here to give him a browbeating? To make him shake in his boots and lord it over him? Belle, at least, wasn’t such a heartless, domineering individual. She could temper this horrifying news a bit, surely.

Whit took Belle’s complacent hand and continued, “It’s true, believe it or not. She has agreed to marry a half-breed, physician though I may be. I’m sorry it had to come out in that manner, with that shit sack”—he glanced sideways at Belle—“that louse Bud bellowing about our unnatural doings. But we’re here to tell you, we don’t wish to discontinue our doings with you. If you agree, we’d like to continue on the same path we were on. Exploring our, ah, our—”

Belle slipped to her knees at Huntley’s feet. “Our love for you!” she proclaimed passionately. She grabbed his gloved hands in her bare ones, and her eyes shined up at him. “Yes, Huntley. I love you both equally, and I could not decide what to do. And Whit loves you so, I could never ask him to abandon you. Nor would I want to.”

Huntley was wordless. What were they proposing? That they continue to fuck the stuffing out of each other—that Huntley fuck another man’s wife? Huntley was accustomed to the mores of Indians where such things were very fluid, and the Far West had vague boundaries for these subjects. Women were so rare as to be mythical, and Huntley had seen more than two or three miners set up housekeeping with only one desirable woman.

Whit added, “We understand if you want us to move. I can even leave Agua Fria if you want me to, if our presence makes you uncomfortable. But honestly, Hunt. I don’t see any reason to break up such a fine thing as we’ve got going for us.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Huntley erupted, surprising even himself. “Move out of Agua Fria? I’ll not hear of it. There’s no reason in the world my partner, a physician, can’t continue living in my house. With his wife, my maid. No one will say a thing against that.”

Belle and Whit glanced at each other as though embarrassed. Belle said, “Well, you see. It’s like this. I enjoy helping Whit with his doctoring, and he needs a new assistant, a nurse, if you will, since Bud…”

“Will be working in the mill breaking rocks!” Whit said heatedly.

“Yes,” Belle agreed. “So we think it would be helpful if you could find a new maid. Maybe some Spanish or Chilean gal, to help Lupe.”

Huntley said, “You wish to become a nurse?”

Belle exhaled with relief. “Yes, a nurse, exactly!”

Huntley shuddered. “If that’s what you want. I can’t fathom looking at the insides of people’s bodies, but if that’s what tickles you to death, so be it. I can find another maid.” He added, “I only gave you that job because I wanted to keep you around. Lupe can clean just fine. Doesn’t take much to cook for one man.”

Whit said, “One man who barely ever eats! No, that’ll change, Hunt. Now with three hard-working, starving mouths to feed, you’ll need a new maid. Agua Fria’s getting bigger by the day, so there’ll be more work than ever. These miners are never going back home to the east.”

Belle clambered into Huntley’s lap, nuzzling her lips against the side of his face. He embraced the furry brown figure, rubbing his grizzled face against her satiny, smooth cheek. “I love you, Huntley Ashbury.”

Huntley squeezed his eyes shut, so painful was the outpouring of emotion in his heart. “I love you too, Belle.”

They sat embracing in silence, a hawk wheeling soundlessly overhead. Then a strange, plaintive wavering voice floated over from their silent camp. That old orator Tenaya was calling to his people far off. It was so windless in the Yosemite Valley his voice was the only sound, aside from the fluffy rustling of Belle’s fur as she strained to listen.

“He’s calling,” she said.

Whit frowned. “Well, we can call, too.”

Huntley was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Whit graced him with his dazzling white smile. Standing, he put his hands on his hips and bellowed out so unexpectedly that Belle jumped in Huntley’s arms.