Darby was looking forward to that bathtub, but it wasn’t to be. He had been off the stagecoach for only ten minutes and already had some of the townspeople looking at him askance. All he had wanted was to bring Indigo up to his room and then have dinner with the man in the restaurant.
But after checking in at the front desk Darby had turned around and found the Indian gone. Walking back onto the front porch he’d found Indigo leaning against the railing. “Why did you leave?” Darby asked.
“Indians not allowed in the hotel, or the restaurant, and many other businesses in town.”
“What? How can they do that?”
“Long story,” Indigo said. “White men have a big problem with Indians. I suppose we can thank the Apache for that mistrust. Weren’t my people who attacked the white men around here all those years ago, but we all take the blame. Do you understand prejudice?”
“I’m Irish. Lots of folks don’t like us. But the Indian wars are over, why can’t they forgive and forget?”
Indigo shrugged. “Some fools have to hate to feel better about themselves. They hate the Indians, the Chinese, and of course the people brought in from Africa. White man has a fragile ego because they understand the Indian knows more about this country than they do. You know the story of Pilgrims?”
“Yes, Plymouth Rock and all that,” Darby said.
“Indians saved their bacon when ignorant white men landed on these shores. No different around here, white men see this as hostile country. Always have, always will, they never learn.”
“Are you an Apache?” Darby asked.
Indigo laughed. “No. The Apache have a reputation as sneaky devils. You would not see one unless he wanted to be seen.”
“This is all so confusing,” Darby said.
“Maybe you will learn a few things before you go back.”
“Back? There is no back, I’m here to stay.”
Indigo shook his head. “Take a long time to teach you what you need to know…I’m too old for that.”
“Old…you can’t be more than two or three times my age?” Darby said. “I imagine you had to teach Sean a good deal.”
“Sean learned quick and we became brothers.”
“Where do you live?” Darby asked.
“Near Sean’s house, been watching the place ever since he was buried. Lots of bad folks would love to steal what he had, but that won’t happen.”
“If you can’t stay at the hotel where do you sleep when you’re in town?”
“I have a campsite…that’s what Indians do.”
“Then I’ll camp with you,” Darby said.
He returned to the lobby, retrieved his bags and told the clerk to cancel his room. Indigo was still waiting on the porch when he returned.
“You may not like the accommodations at my campsite,” Indigo said. “We don’t have running water.”
“Why don’t we go to the ranch?”
“Tomorrow, we have to pick up some supplies while we’re in town and it’s too late in the day to make the trip. Besides, we need to get you on a horse.”
“Horse? I have bags, you want supplies, and won’t we need a wagon?” Darby asked.
“Already have that, you know how to drive one?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll need to ride a horse.”
“No problem, I know horses…are there cows at the ranch?”
Indigo laughed. “Sean was not a cowboy and calling it a ranch is probably giving you the wrong idea. The only animals we have out there are mules and chickens. There probably isn’t a whole lot of good grazing land within a hundred miles unless you’re a sheep.”
Indigo looked at the bags. “Well, come on, let’s get you set up, we have things to do.”
With that he turned and walked towards the end of the porch leaving Darby to handle his own baggage. Across the street and down the block, Indigo turned into the alleyway beside the stables. Darby struggled to keep up as he watched the man head out behind the corral and into the scrub growth.
The campsite was little more than a fire pit set in under a stand of scraggly trees and a pile of rocks. Darby was about worn out by the weight of his bags when he heard a snarling challenge. The dog that crawled out from the shade of the rock pile brought Darby to a stop.
He’d seen animals like this on the streets of the city and they were always to be avoided. A mongrel dog, bred to be fierce and very dangerous.
“Mosh…down,” Indigo commanded.
The dog immediately dropped flat on the ground, but his eyes never left Darby.
“His name is Animosh…that’s Chippewa for dog. He was your uncle’s constant companion, now I suppose he’s mine.”
“Will he attack?” Darby asked.
“Rip your throat out in a second until he gets to know you. Put the bags down and kneel on the ground,” Indigo said.
Darby knelt and the dog raised his head.
“Mosh…friend,” Indigo said.
The dog crawled forward until he was crouched right in front of Darby.
“Let him smell your hand. He won’t bite you.”
Darby held out a hand and the dog sniffed it and then gave it a lick. The introduction was a success as the dog’s tail thumped on the ground in response.
“That was fast,” Darby said.
“You must smell like Sean, Mosh is smart enough to remember his man smell. What do you know about horses?”
There was a wagon with two mules on leads staked out to the ground so they could forage. Darby didn’t see Indigo’s horse.
“Horses sense fear,” Darby said. “I worked in the stables at the race track…I know horses.”
“Good. Sean won this one in a poker game a few years ago. Poor creature was abused by the man that owned her and it took us a while to bring her around. Sean called her Branna because she’s so dark.”
“That’s Gaelic, means raven,” Darby said.
“And so he told me…you speak that language, too?” Indigo said.
“It was my grandparent’s native tongue and Sean’s as well. Indigo is not a Gaelic word so why did he decide to call you that?”
“In Chippewa my name is Ninij-Ozhaawashkwaa…can you pronounce that?”
“Not even going to try,” Darby said. “That sounds harder that Gaelic…what does it mean?”
“Blue Hand…it comes from an Ojibwe legend which I may tell you some day.”
Indigo turned to the dog and nodded allowing the animal to stand up. “Fetch Branna,” he said, and the dog took off.
“You didn’t tie up the horse?” Darby asked.
“She’d just chew through the rope. Mules are dumb but not this horse. She won’t be far.”
Darby heard a bark and within a minute this beautiful horse came trotting into the campsite. Her coat was almost a blue-black, as was the hair of her mane and tail. Raven, Sean’s name seemed appropriate.
Mosh ran in from the brush and nipped at the heels of the horse who lashed out at him with a hind leg but missed by a mile. Indigo laughed and so it seemed this was an old game between the animals. Branna nuzzled Indigo’s shirt and he stroked her neck.
“She doesn’t trust strangers very easily so be careful until she gets to know you. Between them they are our first line of defense,” Indigo said.
“Defense against what?” Darby asked.
“Outlaws…Indians, take your pick. This may be the twentieth century but there are still some bad people out here in the west. All right, put your bags in the wagon and we’ll go get some things. You need some clothing since what you have on is not going to last out here.”
Darby looked down at his suit and sighed. What did he expect? The suit had cost him nearly thirty dollars, but Indigo was right.
“Mosh…on guard,” Indigo said and the dog lay down under the wagon.
They walked back to the main street of town and crossed the street to a storefront. Randolph’s Dry Goods the sign said and there in the window was a pair of beautiful boots.
It seems Indians were allowed in this business as Indigo opened the door and greeted the woman behind the counter by removing his hat and smiling.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Randolph.”
“Indigo…how nice to see you. And who is this?”
“This is the young man I’ve been waiting for,” Indigo said. “Darby O’Brien, meet Mrs. Evelyn Randolph.”
Darby pulled off his cap and shook her hand when it was offered. “Ma’am.”
“Oh my goodness,” she said. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival, young man. I am so sorry for the tragedy of your uncle’s death, he was a fine man. Paid his bills on time and a blessing to our church.”
“What church would that be?” Darby asked. “I haven’t seen the church just yet.”
“It’s at the other end of town,” Indigo said.
“St. Paul’s Episcopal,” Mrs. Randolph said. “Please join us whenever you’re in town on a Sunday.”
“Darby needs some clothing,” Indigo said, getting back to the matter at hand.
Mrs. Randolph smiled and pointed towards the shelves. “Please, help yourself.”
“I’m going to hitch up the wagon and go across to the feed store and then the market,” Indigo said. “It’s two blocks down so you can meet me there when you’re done in here.”
“Good…do I know what I need in here?” Darby asked.
“You need everything. Mrs. Randolph will help you figure that out.”
“Perhaps we should go to the bank…” Darby began.
“No need, Mr. O’Brien,” Mrs. Randolph said. “We’ll start an account and you can pay at the end of the month.”
Shirts, pants, and heavy socks were only the beginning of the pile on the counter. Darby eyed the boots in the window but Mrs. Randolph shook her head.
“Those fancy boots won’t do for where you’re going,” she said. “You need a working boot.”
“Why are they so high?” Darby asked.
“You ride a horse all day and you’ll discover the tall boot keeps the saddle leather from chafing your calf. Lots of brush out there, some of them have thorns, and then a boot can protect you from a rattlesnake bite.”
Rattlesnakes? Darby cringed at the sound of that. “So what do you recommend?” he asked.
Mrs. Randolph fit him with a pair of good looking boots. They had tooled leather and a rounded toe that felt comfortable. Darby changed into the clothes and stood looking at himself in a mirror. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a city boy anymore.
The pants felt heavy, made from some strong coarse fabric. But he fancied the stitching on the seams and the small brass rivets at the corners of the pockets. Pants like these might last him a long time. Darby figured he was done when Mrs. Randolph plopped a grey wide-brimmed hat on his head and smiled.
“Now you look like a cowboy. Just don’t pick up all the other bad habits they have.”
Darby didn’t ask. He signed his name in an accounting ledger and saw that all of this had cost him fifty dollars. Expensive, but then everything he wore had to come from somewhere else and be hauled in by wagon. Tombstone certainly had to be the end of a long supply chain.
He carried his old suit and other clothing wrapped in several paper bundles down the block to the wagon which was sitting in the street. His bags were still in back along with a pile of cloth bags. Corn and oats by the lettering printed on the outside. Darby went to lay his parcel in the back and was startled by the sudden appearance of the dog.
Mosh didn’t bark or even bare his teeth so Darby risked a smile and patted the dog on the head. That little affection was greeted by some tail wagging.
“Good, Mosh,” Darby said. “Stay on guard.”
The dog sat back down in the wagon as Darby walked up the steps into the sundry store. Indigo was at the counter and smiled when he saw Darby’s new clothes.
“Good choices, or was that Mrs. Randolph?”
“She’s nice,” Darby said.
“This is Mr. Drucker…Bob. Bob this is Darby O’Brien, Sean’s nephew.”
Drucker stuck out his hand and nodded without saying a word.
“Bob doesn’t talk much but there’s nothing wrong with his hearing. You got any money left?” Indigo asked.
“Yes…you need some?”
“It would be good to pay off some of our account here. I know Bob would appreciate it.”
“How much is the bill?” Darby asked, reaching for his wallet.
“About two hundred dollars at this point,” Indigo said. “Most of that is for feeding the animals out at the ranch.”
“What about food for us?” Darby asked, counting out the money from the dwindling pile of bills in his wallet.
“You feed a chicken and the chicken feeds you. Of course I got a bag of beans and some flour, coffee and sugar, but it doesn’t take much to keep us fed. Most of this was on account of what Sean had spent before his death. Bob has been waiting for you to arrive and pay the debt.”
“I accept that,” Darby said, handing over the money. Bob smiled and said “Thank you” as he made a note in his ledger.
“What are we going to do about some supper?” Darby asked.
“Do you cook?” Indigo asked.
“I might fry an egg…but no.”
“Then you’re lucky I can cook.”
Indigo drove the wagon back to the campsite and Darby helped him unhitch the mules. Branna stood by and watched the process but still kept her distance from Darby.
“You ought to saddle her up and take a ride,” Indigo said.
Darby frowned. Saddling he could do but the riding part had him concerned. “Look, I know horses, been around them most of my life…but I’ve never ridden one.”
“Oh? We’ll have to take care of that. It’s the surest way for you to bond with the horse. You won’t have any difficulty riding her once you do that.”
Darby smiled. “That easy, huh?”
“Didn’t say that. Sitting a horse is not like sitting in a chair. She moves and you have to move with her. All that can be a little hard on your backside until you get used to it.”
Indigo motioned and Branna walked over. “Go talk to her,” He said.
Darby stepped closer and Branna kept an eye on him as he ran a hand up the horse’s neck. “You understand me, don’t you my lovely Cailin?”
She nodded her head and damn near knocked him over.
“Cailin…?” Indigo asked.
“It just means girl in Gaelic,” Darby said. “I imagine Sean spoke to her in that language but it’s the tone of my voice she listens to. Have you got a bridle?”
A few minutes later Darby was in the saddle and turned the horse towards town. Branna was familiar with the streets of Tombstone and Darby let her walk down the side of the street towards the far end. He reached the railroad station and saw the church across the street.
Episcopal…and that made him wonder why a very Catholic Sean had attended here. There would be no way to find out now, but Darby knew he probably wouldn’t be around for Sunday services. He hadn’t been in a church for years, something to do with nuns and the abusive priest who had spanked him.
Oh well, he imagined Indigo would lead him so far out of town that he wouldn’t be back here very often unless they needed supplies. Darby headed back, taking note of the saloons in one area. So much for a social life. He might never get to know the people here.
Being stuck out on some desolate patch of ground with a single Indian for company was beginning to sound bleak. But he wanted to know more about Sean’s life and the mining operation. Of course he could always sell out his share and return east, and that made him smile. No doubt Indigo would be in favor of that.
He returned to the campsite and once again Mosh ran around Branna’s legs and she reacted. Unfortunately that almost threw him from the saddle and he yelled at Mosh to lie down. Indigo observed all of this and did nothing.
Darby swung himself down from the saddle and stroked Branna to calm her down. “Does Mosh always do that?” He asked.
“Animals get along better than people,” Indigo said. “They’re just playing.”
He had gathered some wood from the pile by the rocks and started a fire. Darby unsaddled his horse and set her free, hoping Mosh would be able to keep track of her. But Branna stood quietly under the trees and seemed to enjoy their company.
“Do we have to feed and water the animals before we eat?” Darby asked.
Indigo dug a fry pan out of the wagon and shook his head. “These aren’t city horses, they know how to forage. There’s grass and a water hole the other side of those rocks, why do you think I camp here?”
Darby watched as Indigo dug in a box under the seat on the wagon. He removed several cans and a small sack of something which turned out to be dried bacon. Using the knife from his boot Indigo carved half a dozen slabs of the meat and tossed them in the fry pan. The cans held beans and once opened they were set on a rock at the edge of the fire.
Mosh ran into camp from the growing darkness and plopped down beside Darby.
“You have a way with animals,” Indigo said. “Where did you learn that?”
“I told you about the racetrack. The horses there were pretty high strung, almost as high strung as the people who rode them. I was just a wee one when I started hanging around so standing next to a horse was dangerous, they hate surprises. So I learned to talk to them, make them aware of my presence so they wouldn’t spook.”
“Smart thinking,” Indigo said. He ladled the bacon and beans out onto a plate and handed it to Darby.
“Tell me about Sean,” Darby said.
“What do you want to know?”
“My aunt died years ago, did Sean ever think about getting remarried?”
“Not right away,” Indigo said. “He worked hard on the mining operation and then Hank joined the business.”
Indigo ate a spoonful of beans and chewed slowly, gazing at Darby across the fire.
“I was never sure if I trusted Hank enough to turn my back on him. His relationship with Sean was…was unusual.”
“Unusual in what way?’ Darby asked.
“You ever sleep with a woman?” Indigo asked.
“No, several women tried to take advantage of me but I was too drunk to do anything.”
Indigo smiled. “You ever sleep with a man?”
Darby almost dropped his plate. “No…why would I?”
“Sean and Hank, they were partners…in business and in bed.”
“You mean they were…together?”
“That’s what I mean. Didn’t have anything to do with me, it wasn’t my place to offer an opinion. Men work hard together and sometimes play together, I’ve seen it before.”
“But my Uncle Sean…he was married.”
“I know all about that, your aunt died. I think she was the only woman Sean ever wanted, he didn’t look for another wife. Every year or so he would take the train to the coast and I just thought he needed some time away from here. After his third trip he came back with Hank.
“I didn’t know there was anything between them. But Hank was college educated, a smart man. He brought the business sense to the mining operation and things got better. But there was just something about him that bothered me.”
“So why did he shoot Sean?” Darby asked.
“Not sure he meant to, but there was a loaded pistol and it went off. Sean took a bullet to the chest, killed him instantly before I could stop it.”
“You were there?”
“Yes…I should have seen it coming. I’ll regret that to my dying day. But Hank turned himself into the sheriff…and then some of the people in town went crazy. Sean was well liked and Hank was the outsider. The sheriff went home for dinner and a bunch of town folk took Hank from the jail and strung him up from that tree outside the church.”
Indigo shook his head. “It was just one bad thing after another, but I couldn’t say anything and risk the business. I told the lawyer about you and he sent the letter off to New York.”
“You did all that?”
“Sean told me about you, had some very nice things to say. You were the only one he trusted to come out here and continue the mining. It’s a very special situation, Darby…you’ll see once we get out there.”
“I never would have thought Sean was…have you ever seen something like that before?”
“Here and there…California and other places.”
Darby set down his plate and Mosh eased over to lick up the remainder. There was moisture in Indigo’s eyes, as if all this talk about Sean had nearly brought him to tears. Darby was sad, but the circumstance of his uncle’s death was too shocking for him to feel the sadness.
But Indigo had been Sean’s fast friend…and Darby was beginning to realize this was no ordinary Indian. Indigo reached in his pocket and pulled out a briarwood pipe which he lit from an ember in the fire. Sean had often smoked a pipe…perhaps this very one.
“You’re an educated man and not at all what I thought an Indian would be like,” Darby said.
“I went to school,” Indigo said, “and thank you. Not one of those government schools they forced Indians to attend, I was long gone before those Christians got their hands on me. I was born in Montana, third child of an Ojibwe farmer and his wife. We lived up on the Canadian border but not far enough away from the reach of the American government.
“The state was like many others that suppressed native culture and language so my mother hid me away when the government people came around. Oh they found out about me eventually and I left home heading west and determined to go as far as a man could go.”
“You left to avoid school, so how did you get educated?”
“I didn’t want a Christian education…I wanted to remain an Ojibwe. My grandfather was medicine man…and I have some of his stubborn traits I guess. But I was only twelve when I reached San Francisco and saw the great ocean. I had no money and only the kindness of others took me that far, but then I was alone.
“I met a white boy on the street, but he had evil intentions. He and his friends tried to kill me and I fought back until I was beaten and bruised, that’s when Su Chen appeared. He was only a few years older but he fought valiantly in my defense and chased the white boys away.
“He took me to the home of his family and his uncle nursed my wounds. I recovered after a few weeks but by then Su Chen was my friend and I was invited to stay. I worked for that family for eight years and was taught the same lessons as the family’s children.”
Indigo smiled. “The education of a person by those Chinese teachers is very intense so I learned English and mathematics. I also learned to cook, so lucky you. But to answer your question, Indians were not allowed to attend university in California. I was most fortunate to have been adopted by a Chinese family.”
The food in his stomach and the long stagecoach ride made Darby realize how tired he was, and so he yawned. Indigo smiled. “It’s been quite a day for you, we should turn in,” He said.
“I’m sorry,” Darby said.
Indigo retrieved two bedrolls from the wagon and laid them out beside the fire. Darby crawled over and lay down, suddenly exhausted.
“Thank you, Indigo. I would be lost if you weren’t here to guide me.”
“Sean had plans to entice you out here…he talked about that all the time. I’m just sorry about the circumstances that made all this necessary.”
Indigo looked over and saw that Darby had already fallen asleep. Ah well, no sense in learning everything on the first day. The fire would die and Mosh would guard them as they slept. Indigo lay down on his own bedroll.
Tomorrow Darby would learn of Sean’s plans, but so far the boy seemed like he could handle the big secret. Must be a strong family resemblance because Sean had said the boy would adapt and learn to accept his fate. Only time would tell but Indigo trusted Sean’s words…this had better work because a lot of people’s lives depended on it.
Indigo regretted the disparaging remarks he’d made earlier, the boy had come here at Sean’s request and seemed capable. This was not the kind of life a city boy might imagine and he smiled as he remembered Darby asking about cows.
No, this was not the life of a cowboy but a hard scrabble existence that might better suit a miner or a farmer. Darby had not led a soft life because his hands were calloused and proved he was used to hard work. It would be good to have another O’Brien at hand and it looked like this one would stay.