Read Online Beneath a Dakota Cross by Stephen A. Bly - Free Book Online Page A

that, we’re liable not to have a claim when we come back. General Crook and the troops should already be there.”
    â€œI ain’t never rode off and left a partner in a tough pinch before,” Big River insisted.
    â€œI’m not in any danger. These hills are deserted. Ever’one else has gone down to the stockade. We’ve almost waited too long as it is,” Brazos reminded him.
    â€œWord is, the army is usherin’ us out of the hills on Wednesday.” Big River plucked a cocklebur from his pant leg and dropped it into the fire. “If you ain’t down there by then we’ll come back lookin’ for you.”
    â€œIf I’m not there by then, push on to the crossing of the Cheyenne River. I’ll meet you there.”
    Grass Edwards drew letters in the dirt with his finger. “You can’t go through Red Canyon by yourself.”
    Brazos thought he spotted a J and an S among Grass’s letters. “You two quit your worryin’. You’re beginnin’ to sound like a couple old maids fussin’ over the dog.”
    â€œWouldn’t mind findin’ a couple old maids . . .” Big River mused.
    â€œI cain’t believe they’re really makin’ us all leave,” Grass bellyached.
    A wide smile broke across Brazos’s face. “Think of it this way: we’ll be in Cheyenne within a week, and not all the gals there are old ladies.”
    â€œWhy did you look at me when you said that?” Edwards protested.
    Brazos shrugged, then winked at Big River Frank. “Figured you were lookin’ forward to doin’ some visitin’, that’s all.”
    â€œWhat’s all this talk about visitin’ young ladies in Cheyenne?” Big River Frank challenged. “You two ain’t keepin’ secrets, are you?”
    â€œBrazos!” Edwards’s word stabbed the air like a fork into the last pork chop at a boarding house.
    Fortune sipped the dregs of his coffee, straining the grounds with his teeth. He stood as his blue-gray eyes surveyed the claim. “Boys, we have her all buttoned up real nice. From ridge to ridge across the gulch, three hundred feet of prime Black Hills mineral rights. We’ve got most of our gear packed, the property line marked with stone pillars, camp torn down except for me and Hook’s tent. We even have enough gold in our pokes to do a little explorin’ of some Wyomin’ ranch country. I reckon that’s better than when we pulled in here.”
    Grass stood up beside him, his thumbs laced in his vest pockets. “For a man who thought his future was under that there Dakota cross, you’re surely takin’ all this leavin’ peaceful.”
    â€œI didn’t say it was under a Dakota cross, just a cross.” Brazos glanced down near Edwards’s boots and definitely saw the name Jamie Sue scratched in the dirt. “Anyway, even the children of Israel went into exile in Egypt before they returned to the promised land,” he muttered.
    Big River Frank stood up by the other two, a good six inches shorter than Brazos. “Maybe the Lord’s exiled you from Texas. You ever think maybe he’s going to call you back there?”
    Brazos pointed down at the flames. “The Hebrew children were in Egypt for four hundred years.”
    â€œI know better than to get you in a Bible quotin’ contest,” Big River conceded as he glanced around camp. “I suppose we’ve done all we can do.”
    Edwards rested his right hand on the walnut grip of the Colt revolver that hung from a wire hook on his belt. “There’s one more thing I wished we could have finished. I wish we could have caught up with Kabyo and them that shot Hook.”
    Brazos gazed to the west. “We chased them down out of the hills and straight for the Big Horns. The Sioux and the Cheyenne will have to take care of them out there. That’s too dangerous land for