Savage Arrow

She laid her purse beside her, then took a sip of the wine.

She looked around her again, and smiled at Reginald. “You have such a lovely home, Reginald,” she murmured. “I’m happy for you, Cousin.”

“Nothing comes easy,” Reginald said, taking a sip of wine, then setting the glass on a table beside him. “As you know, all of this came as a result of my having discovered silver.”

“Please tell me about it,” Jessie said. “It must have been so exciting.”

“Well, yes, quite,” Reginald said, stopping to wheeze several times, then coughing into his hand. “I don’t confide in just anyone about my find. But you are my cousin. I know you won’t divulge any information that I tell you.”

“No, I won’t,” Jessie said, her eyes wide. “Reggie, oh, Reggie, when we were small children, would you have ever thought you’d have such wealth?”

“Reginald, Jessie,” he said tightly. “No one calls me Reggie. It seems so . . . so . . .”

“I won’t call you Reggie again,” Jessie said, interrupting him.

“To continue with my tale,” Reginald said, taking his glass and gazing into its depths. “I had discovered several pieces of horn silver in a creek, and then found an outcropping of high-grade silver ore. All along the wash I found scattered pieces of silver floating. Then the stream disappeared into a cave. I lit a torch and went inside. I found a red and black ledge of silver ore. I ran my hands over its rough surface, then sank my pick into it, prying out several pieces. They were dark and heavy with pure silver. It was a real strike. I’d found a bonanza!”

“How exciting!” Jessie said, her eyes wide. “Tell me the rest.”

“Only if you promise not to repeat my story to anyone,” Reginald said, leaning forward so that he could look directly into her eyes. “I haven’t told anyone else. You’re the only one.”

“I promise not to tell,” Jessie said, glad that he trusted her enough to confide this secret.

“After all those years of wandering through lonely, desolate mountains, starved and blistered and frozen, I finally had myself some silver,” he said. He chuckled. “Not only some silver. Tons! The vein I’d exposed was pure and soft. A coin pressed into it left a clear imprint. I had always heard that all I’d find out there would be my tombstone. But I showed them.”

“You said no one knows about where your silver was found,” Jessie said guardedly. “How could you keep it a secret?”

“There are ways,” Reginald said tightly. “No one knows but me . . . and a band of Sioux.”

“Indians know?” Jessie said, her eyes widening. “And . . . they are Sioux?” Her mind went back to Thunder Horse. He had said that he was Sioux!

“Yes, the Sioux,” Reginald said through clenched teeth.

“Aren’t you tempted to go and get more silver?” Jessie asked.

He grew pale at her question.

“No, never!” he gulped out. “And I’m tired of talking about it.”

“Come with me,” he said, rising quickly from the sofa. He set his glass aside, took hers, and placed it on the table as well.

He nodded toward her. “I’ll show you to your room,” he said, his voice drawn.

Then he stopped and stared at her. “Yo

ur luggage,” he gasped. “You have no luggage.”

It was then that she knew she must tell him about the ambush, and that her trunk would soon be delivered by the sheriff. As quickly as possible, she told the tale, managing to leave out any mention of Chief Thunder Horse.

“My word,” he gasped, paling at the thought of what she had gone through. “Are you alright? Truly alright?”

“I’m fine, just tired,” Jessie murmured.

“Then let’s get you to your room,” he said, walking down the long, narrow corridor, with her following him.

Just as she started to enter the room he had assigned her, she stopped abruptly. She had caught a glimpse of something in the room at her left side that was so beautiful it took her breath away.

“A grand piano,” she gasped, her eyes taking in its beauty. The piano sat at one end of what she knew had to be Reginald’s music room.