CHAPTER ONE

Always.

Forward

1879. Any place in the world, a difficult time in history. In the American West. Tough. Harsh. Dangerous. And unpredictable.

1879. American West. For a European woman. Deadly. Vulnerable. Risky.

1879. American West. For the native American Nation. The beginning of the end of an era.

Early Spring 1879

The view from the dust covered window continued to race by in rhythm with the horses. It was strange how much the stagecoach had become home to Elizabeth over the past 5 days, with the train only going as far west as Phoenix, she'd had no choice but to change to land travel.

The coach stopping twice a day for food, to change the horses and to pick up and drop off travellers, allowing people to stretch and relieve themselves, picking up and dropping off any mail along the way. Sometimes the stage stopped overnight when the trail was too dangerous in the dark. The further west it went, the stranger the stagecoach station people were when they found her traveling alone and not always in the best of company.

Elizabeth recalled the last stop smiling. But she wasn't stupid.

She had her MAS Modele six shot revolver in her pocket. Her father would not be happy she had made this journey alone and a sigh slipped from her lips as she had that same thought again.

She'd been gone too long.

The rocking motion of the coach as it headed home and the incessant dust, working its way, she thought, running her finger around the collar of her dress, into every corner of her being. The eastern dress not helping. Too many layers and too constricting. She'd never liked it much but had conformed to her aunts wishes.

She couldn't wait to get out of these clothes.

Elizabeth, not for the first time, reconsidered the rashness of her actions.

Should she really have come? Would her uncle welcome her? Should she have stayed back east?....

It had been 7 years and although he wrote to her weekly, he'd not actually written to bring her back.

In the beginning, he was continually telling her how lucky she was being in the East. All the opportunities like he was trying to convince her he'd been right to send her but it only fell on stony ground as far as she was concerned. It was only that her aunt had been so giving and loving, so happy to see her and wanted the best for her, that she'd eventually given it a go. It didn't help that he would tell her how things were at home, describing the work and weather, the men, her family, stressing that nothing would compare to her experience of a modern city life. Trouble was, the more he wrote about it, the more Elizabeth became concerned and the more she needed to go home.

The last letter had done it for her.

There was talk of Red Wolf leading the tribe. Of needing a wife. Dull Knife anxious for the future of the Nation. The animals and ranch hands, going about their business. White Dove and Anna working the home. And still, no mention of when she would be going back. No plans being made for her to go home.

It should have been the letter to bring her home. If there were talk of Red Wolf marrying, it was clearly time….

Frowning she was again unsure.

"That's a considerable frown for such a lovely lady."

Elizabeth turned from the window to look at the older gentleman who had recently joined them and smiled. He looked kindly and someone's grandfather she expected. "I'm sorry I do not remember your name."

"Mr. Wilson, Oklahoma mam, I was telling you earlier, I'm in trade?"

"Arr yes, Mr. Wilson, you'll forgive me, it's been a long and tiring journey and it's hard to concentrate on anything."

"Quite right Ms, quite right – and a journey for not one so young and on her own, if you will forgive me for saying." Mr. Wilson looked concerned. "But not long now I understand, we should be in Cheyanne Junction tomorrow."

"Yes, indeed Mr. Wilson. But I am only going as far as Brownsville. I am nearly home." Replied Elizabeth with another frown still uncertain.

"Does that not please you Ms?"

Elizabeth gave a strained smile. "Yes and no Mr. Wilson, I'm hoping my uncle will be as happy to see me, as I will too see him." Elizabeth placed her hands in her lap and looked up. "It's been more seven years since he sent me east to live with my great Aunt, he's not exactly expecting me."Elizabeth told him with a knowing understated smile

"Oh I see Ms, well I'm sure, he will be delighted."

Elizabeth gave another resigned smile and thought. ‘I hope so.'

New York with all its attractions was not for her. The young men calling, the Balls, Afternoon Tea's, the structure of life. It was all so …..false.

Such polite airs and graces for what?.... It felt like such useless air.

If it hadn't been for her interest in the family business…..,

She would have gone mad. The other women she'd been introduced to at her ‘finishing school' didn't get her. They expected her to be accomplished and pretty. She had money.

Why did she want to soil her hands with working?....

That was for men, unless they were wealthy, and they did…… very little. It bored her. They bored her. They didn't feel alive to her.

And tried not to roll her eyes remembering it all and closed them instead. Lulled by the rocking of the carriage. She hoped her Aunt would forgive her. Sleep, she thought. Maybe that will help…..

****

Mr. Wilson smiled at the sleeping beauty, she was quite something, young, he thought with her fresh clear complexion, a real beauty. Her hair a natural combination of yellows and reds. He couldn't think when he had last seen such colouring. Not blond not red but a captivating mixture of both and those eyes. The richest, deepest, sapphire blue that captivated you with dark lashes and no mistaking. But the clincher he realised – was the fact that she had no idea of the effect she was having on the men around her.

He joined her in closing his eyes, his last thoughts as he drifted off; that Elizabeth, would break many a heart and hoped that this county, would not break her.

****

Keeping her eyes closed. She tried but wasn't sleeping. And hoped it at least stopped any further conversation. Having said more in one sentence than she had in many days. She really wasn't up to talking about her life. It was far too complicated and they would never understand anyway, she concluded.

How could she explain the complexities of her life to a stranger?.....

Not even her aunt could understand it.

Seven years ago Ben had told her at breakfast, she was going East to school to stay with her mother's sister, Clara.

The day before he'd come across her and Red Wolf. He was on his pony, and she was aside his horse sitting in front of him. He was holding her close and whispering in her ear about something, both of them covered in mud from a trip through the river. A few years older, the 13-year-old Elizabeth was smitten. It was a childish thing, but it seemed to make up Ben's mind about something.

He told her she needed to be a young woman who could stand up in a man's world and that world respect her. That she couldn't do that, running around like a native.

How she had hated that conversation.

She'd shouted and argued till she was blue in the face. She'd stopped eating – well for a day at least. She smiled, and he had not relented. It broke her heart the day she'd left and the goodbyes she'd had to make. Her friends and her great family.

Leaving was the most difficult thing she had ever had to do other than carry on after her parents had passed.

Her thoughts turned back to Ben. Good, kind Ben. The older brother to her father.

A man who had rejected ‘respectable' life in his youth. Who had been a gunslinger and on the wrong side of the law for most of his younger days. A ‘reckless' young man her uncle had told her. Luckily for Ben, nothing serious came of it, and unlike so many others, her uncle had turned risky lawbreaker to law keeper before it was too late.

And after the Indian attack ……. Her heart skipped a beat as it always did, when, unwillingly, it all came back to her….

Even now, after all these years, she couldn't remember it clearly.

She wasn't too sure if she ever really wanted to. Too young. Too scared. Too nightmarish. Or all just too fast for a frightened child, she guessed.

She recalled the buggy ride and her excitement on their long journey into town. How handsome her father looked all dressed up in his Eastern finery and how pretty her mama was. They were not alone some of the ranch hands with them. Her mama dressed in green silk.

Elizabeth had loved that dress. And recalled the games she'd played with several of her father's men, along the way.

Then, out of nowhere, they came.

Screaming and shouting riding fast towards them.

Elizabeth remembered at first, thinking it was part of one of the games they were playing. She was gay, laughing and pointing out the men to her mama. That it was their Indians and men were playing dress up, painted and riding fast.

Only they were not playing at all. Her mother screamed and clung to her calling her father's name. He whipped the horses up and they raced on. The men with them firing at those coming at them. It seemed like a hundred screaming devils at once and quickly it turned deadly.

The shooting. The smoke. The burning of gunpowder.

Her mother's fear as she clung to Elizabeth and her own. But mostly, she wished she could block out the screaming. She remembered it so vividly. Indian and American alike and the moments her mother and father were killed and the kindly ranch hand who at that point, had picked her up and rode like the devil himself for the nearest farmstead.

He had saved her life that day she was sure of it and very thankful.

And after, they knew it to be a war party. Crossing into their own Indian lands for a raid. A grudge or falling out most likely.

Elizabeth had partial memories of the farmer and his wife and later, the journey home. Mainly they told her, she'd had a fever hit her right after and that's why she couldn't remember much at all. Elizabeth accepted it. She didn't remember her arrival back at the Double T Bar. Or the many days spent in bed crying, refusing to eat or attend her parent's funeral.

She remembered being unable to do that. It made it all seem to real to her childish mind.

But what she did remember, was the first day of the rest of her life.

Waking one morning, expecting the despair she had experienced every day since to hit her again. But when she opened her eyes, she found Ben standing over her. The family Lawyer having informed him of her parents passing and that he needed to take over according to her father's Will.

A job he'd never wanted but he came anyway.

A little greyer than she remembered. He'd bent down, held her close, wiped her tears and rocked her back to sleep.

The next morning, she got up. She was 7 years old and orphaned.

The days following were challenging for her. She tried to get into her old routine, but found it hard, her mama being so much a part of that. Everything she did reminded her of her pain. Elizabeth decided before the week was out, that she needed a new routine. Something that would not remind her of her pain. And she'd gone looking for Ben.

Looking out across the yard. She'd been reminded that the Double T, was a ranch larger than anyone else's in the area.

One her father had been most proud of.

Coming from England with ‘Pennies' he'd said and turned it into thousands and not by false means. Having worked hard, doing back breaking work, he'd struck it lucky in the gold mines and got him and his money out before anything bad could happen.

Heading further West to continue his fortune. "Land." He'd always said to her while sitting on his knee. "A man must have land." And land he'd got. Hundreds and thousands of acres. It had been hard earnt. But her father never forgot how his own family had been treated by landowners in the old country. Thrown off as tenant farmers had left a country starving.

He never forgot it and it influenced everything he did.

He'd been rightly proud of his achievements. Some of the best land in the West he'd told her. And recalled the bargain her father made to the local Indians, the Nation who truly owned the land. They'd come looking to see who was on their land. He'd gone to speak with them along with a missionary. He'd spoken of how the wind blows and that it could not hold back the White man coming. He offered peace, to leave them alone and work, for anyone who wished it. He also offered bounty. Goods and animals as a thank you for allowing him to share the land and he made a promise to them. No one goes hungry.

Her father had spoken many times of the way his family had been ejected from their land in England by those with greater power. How he knew what it was like to feel powerless. Knowing he needed to respect the land and the people on it. He'd wanted to thank them for sharing it and bring prosperity to all.

She smiled remembering they'd not believed him at first. There had been skirmishes along the way with hands and Nation setting each other off. Her father acting quickly to wheedled those out and the Indians came to accept his words as truth.

He was a man of conscience and principal, of his word, aware of the politics and the injustice of the native people. He had after all seen first-hand what those with power could do. And he knew how the Indians were treated by land hungry politics. The forced walks. The reservations. The killing of a race and he had refused to be brought into it. Yes, he'd bought the land the Indians were on. But he'd made sure they were protected within his boundary. No white man could make them do anything.

He had used goodwill to share and return what he had, and they respected him for it.

Elizabeth remembered recalling how ironic it was, that it should be Indians to have killed him.

But not the same Indians, no, never the same….

Even now, she didn't know how they knew it was the right time to come calling at the ranch after the raid. That she was up to seeing visitors. But she guessed one of the hands had told them and come they did.

It was as she was talking to Ben one morning on the veranda that first week after he'd arrived, that they or rather she, had visitors. Indian visitors. They rode across the grassland as they always did, coming from the North. And at their head, their chief, Dull Knife.

He normally came alone with a few of his warriors but this day, he came with most of them including his two sons, Red Wolf and Running Elk. She remembered it was unusual to see all three together in that way. She knew them. They'd come to the ranch now and then. Running Elk a few years younger than her, Red Wolf several years older and not normally with the warriors. But there they were that day and each of them, in ceremonial mourning dress she'd found out later. Elizabeth had been so touched to see them coming to see her. Not once did she fear them. She knew from her father that Dull Knife was very protective of his family having lost so many to the wars. His first wife and sons had been killed in a raid too. Only by Americans.

Instinctively, Elizabeth had taken Ben's hand and silently walked towards the rail of the porch where she had seen her father, address the Indians many times. It had felt like a dream. She let go of Bens" hand and instinctively reached out to touch the bull whip her father hung on the porch post. It was mainly ornamental. A gift from his father-in-law on his marriage. But her father had kept it well-oiled, had carried it often and it brought him closer to her at that moment.

Noticing the manner of the ranch hands, that they were unusually worried, edgy, scared even. Looking ill at ease. At any other time, it would have been funny seeing the hands act this way towards their friends but not that day. Tempers were riding high.

Elizabeth recalled speaking to them to ease the tensions.

"We have guests, my father's and our friends, we will not dishonour him or them this day." They turned to look at her. Understanding her meaning they all visibly relaxed, her words soothing them against the unknown. And at that moment she remembered that it might not be her call to make and looked over at Ben. He smiled down at her and nodded, she'd done the right thing.

Dull Knife, came to a stop in front of her, with his sons behind him surrounded by his men. They were a magnificent sight; it took her breath away. Elizabeth looked beyond Dull Knife to his oldest son. Red Wolf, he was older than Elizabeth by several years. And had not seen him for some time. He'd grown and she remembered how strangely he looked at her then.

Dull Knife had learned English from the missionaries when he was a child and spoke it well, as did his sons. They still believed in the old ways and traditions but knew the value of knowing their enemy. Some western ideas had crept in over the years, but they honoured the old traditions and their ancestors.

And in that moment, Elizabeth knew, they'd come for her.

Dull Knife had not missed a thing. He looked about him giving each man his full gaze. His eyes settling on Ben for a short time. Feeling no anger or challenge. He turned to Elizabeth and called out.

"Esa." (her father's pet name for her) "I and my family come today to pay homage to a great man and his family." Some of the hands didn't look convinced.

But Elizabeth hadn't cared. She knew these people well.

"Your father and I shared many enemies and won many battles together. It is with heavy heart that our enemies have struck down both the strength and grace of your family, and we, the Nation, have lost two great friends. Dull Knife acknowledges the great debt owed to your father and the promise shared by blood brothers and our families Esa." He nodded then continued. "As your father was father to my sons by showing them the American way, I hope you will honour me, to be father to you in our traditional ways. From this day, our tribes are united in death as they were in life. You are under my protection; my child and we shall never forget."

An Indian cry sung out from his men at his declaration.

Elizabeth remembered the speech so clearly. She was so moved by the emotion it stirred, not just the sorrow but also the pride. It seemed strange to see such a strong warrior as Dull Knife looking so pale and emotional. Tears in her own eyes by the time he'd finished speaking. Knowing she would have to answer him. It was not difficult to do. She liked the grand warrior and the tribe and had spent much time with them when they visited the ranch. Tagging along with the older warriors asking questions, getting in their way. Dull Knife wanted to keep the peace and goodwill her father had worked so hard for. She wanted that too. And moving to the edge of the porch she spoke

"Chief Dull Knife, you honour me and my parents by coming today. I am lost without them. My father loved this life, this land and both our families. He valued friendship and honesty above all and welcomed, that he shared this with you. He spoke many times of his wish, that in friendship and in blood, we were bonded to this land." Emotionally over taken by her father's words, she'd stood quietly for a moment holding onto her tears. Raising her head, she had to look up at him. Calmly, with no fear, she answered him. "Thank you, I accept your protection and willingly call you father."

The braves behind Dull Knife and his sons rejoiced and cried out again. Dull Knife had looked at her and registered her grief and not for the first time, he was overcome himself. Possibly by the strength he found in her, she didn't know. She was after all her father's child.

But not a child that day.

"Come visit me soon daughter," he called softly as he pushed his pony forward towards her. She nodded, no words needed. Dull Knife then bowed to her in respect of her new status and grief, turned his horse and slowly walked away. His place was taken by his oldest son.

****

Red Wolf, did not take his eyes off her. She gazed back at him without fear. Part of him had been concerned on hearing of the raid that the child he knew, that had been lucky to survive dying or being taken captive, would be unbroken by it and strong enough to live on.

Big clear blue eyes shone back at him.

She had lost much. The village was in uproar on hearing about the loss.

Several war parties had been out looking for the culprits, but they were long gone.

Vengeance and justice for her ruled them.

His father strong in his conviction to make things right, wanting to see her and ensure that she remembered them as family not as enemies.

He took in all that was still a child but knew the woman she would be, and it warmed him. Pausing long enough before speaking, not wishing to break the spell. The connection, moment they shared. He hesitated to break it by speaking as Elizabeth stood her ground holding his gaze. He gave a nod of understanding.

"Come soon sister, or I shall come for you." He told her, bowed and pushed his pony on after his father.

Running Elk taking his place and speaking most solemnly. "Sister, it should not be long before we play together again," he told her, smiled then bowed, and walked his pony on.

****

Each of the men in Dull Knifes group of braves took the place before her. Each man she had seen many times before, bowed and followed their Chief.

They left, as they'd come, quietly and in much dignity.

Elizabeth remembered the feeling of calmness following their visit.

And realised now, that she had been comforted by it and was glad. There would have been many unsaid questions in her mind, following the nature of her parent's death had it not gone that way and maybe Dull Knife knew that. From that point forward, she was sure, their visit was as much for her comfort as theirs. For although her parents had died at the hands of Indians, she loved those of her land and had proven it.

In time. They had opened a whole new world for her, as both Running Elk and Red Wolf had come to the ranch and spent time with her and her uncle, both of them sharing an understanding of the land. Making the Double T, stronger, richer and more powerful for it.

Twice a year, the Double T made gifts to the tribe. Horses and cattle in the main with other food stocks, blankets and tools and the offer of work to those who wanted it. It was a time of celebration and of giving thanks. Becoming their Spring and Harvest festivals. Braves were paid scouts for the herds and men and guarded them and the land. Others looked after and trained the horses, creating strong bloodlines, that became much prized across the West. Their horses fetching some of the best prices and much sort after.

And after the second visit to the tribe since her parent's death, Dull Knife had told her, it was not appropriate for a Chief's daughter to not have female company of her own to assist her and had instructed his sister"s daughter to stay with her. She was also unmarried, ten years older and was to accompany Elizabeth back to the ranch. She accepted it without question.

With a smile, she recalled, that White Dove had indeed gone with her and had never left. Ben and White Dove had fallen in love, and he married her two years later with the permission of Dull Knife. A bond strengthening both families, but this did not come easy to them. Both Ben and White Dove suffered at the hands of ‘civilized' people in town and by some of the hired hands. Ben sacked them of course and shortly after, at Bens request and with the agreement of Elizabeth and Dull Knife, Red Wolf part time, took a hand in the running of the ranch.

Three years later, he ran the braves and two years after that, Ben had sent her away. Her devastation had been complete.

Under her father's tutelage, Brownsville their local town soon came to understand its dependence on the ranch and its people. Happy to let people be, it was evident the money and business it generated for them and many did well on the Double T or because of it. Within a very short time, as the ranches success grew, a greater respect for the family came with it. Her father equally fair with them too.

The townsfolk came to know the Double T and what it stood for. It generated a lot of wealth from provisions and business dealings. Had the family been less than honourable, the family could have owned it. But that was not what her father had wanted, and they continued his way. And those two years later, Elizabeth, reluctantly with the permission of her father Dull Knife, was sent East by Ben boarding the stage at Brownsville.

It had been so hard to leave. Saying goodbye. She swallowed hard at the memory.

The family had held a party. People came from all over the county, and she travelled to the Indian Village to take her leave of Dull Knife and the tribe days before. It was the only other time she had seen him so emotional. The only one not there strangely, had been Red Wolf.

He'd been absent from both, and it had greatly upset her.

And when she did see him, it was from a distance.

She was riding her pony to Brownsville to catch the stage with Ben. Red Wolf was astride his horse watching from the hills above and waiting for her. As they drew up in line with him, he turned his pony and rode the ridge to the south of their property. He didn't ride to her but kept pace with her for a long time, until they neared the border of their land. Then just as suddenly he disappeared from sight. Reappearing, directly in front of her, on the crest of those hills, horse and rider, profiled against the clear blue sky.

He took her breath away.

A very impressionable 14 year old girl had gazed on in wonder she recalled at the image of him. Tall in the saddle facing her. He was magnificent. A true warrior. Nineteen seasons he'd reminded her not long before, she recalled.

It was the first time she'd seen him as he truly was. Not just as her friend but as a warrior. She'd been devastated at having to let him go.

And as she'd passed him, his horse reared, and her breath caught concerned for him.

Then he called to her, fully in control, without fear.

"No matter where you go, how long you are gone, your life is here. Always. We will be waiting. Never forget. Always." And then, he was gone riding off.

Her tears had flowed and Ben had had to help her ride on.

The memories were overwhelming, and she sighed.

Soon she would have to face them all again. No one knew she was coming home. And in the ten years Ben and White Dove had been married, they had not been blessed with children.

She was all there was.

Ben had gone to great lengths to explain that the ranch and land would always remain hers and hers alone. That he was happy to look after it for her, but ultimately, the Double T was her responsibility.

She had taken it very seriously, she still did.

And one of the reasons she needed to be home.

Needed to be back on the land, it was pulling on her. Calling to her. She was nearly 21 years old, tired of her life in the East and longing for her old one.

It was time to go home.

Her final thoughts as she drifted into exhausted sleep, were recalling children's games around the village campfires, the stories of their great battles and of their hero's….

****

At that precise moment Clara her aunt, returned home early from her vacation with friends in Boston. Her surprise and dismay were unimaginable on finding Elizabeth"s note. She'd feyned illness not to go with her. Clara, elegant and a striking likeness to her niece, immediately went to her writing bureau in her fashionable drawing room and wrote to Ben.

Dear Ben,

Clara stopped for a moment and considered what a wonder that man has been to them, if it hadn't been for him, she may never have seen Elizabeth. She was thankful for that. She had never realized how empty her life had been until Elizabeth had arrived. Putting pen to paper she continued.

I have just arrived home from my vacation with friends, to find Elizabeth has decided to return home to you without an escort. The staff tell me she left eight days ago. I am most vexed that I was not informed immediately by staff but it seems, Elizabeth fooled them into thinking I was aware of her intentions and I was happy for her to leave. I fear for her Ben. I believe she took the 2 pm train and with connections should have reached Phoenix 2 days later.

That would mean she would have been on the Brownsville stage with a 6-day journey ahead of her. As you receive this cable, I believe she should be either at Bleachers Point tonight or on the road to Brownsville. Find her Ben and forgive an old fool. Clara.

Clara called to her maid.

"Mary take this to the cable office as fast as you can, and tell them to instruct someone at Brownsville to take it to the Double T immediately it arrives. No time to be wasted."

Mary seeing the worry and concern in her mistress's eyes replied, now looking scared for the young mistress. "Yes mam." and hurriedly took the note.

"Thank you Mary please hurry."

"I'm real sorry mam, Ms Elizabeth was very insistent, she would not listen to reason."

Clara nodded. "I'm sure she was Mary, now off you go, run child."