"A very fine parcel, baaláax, [1]" intoned the taller and darker of the two men on horseback.
Charles Bingley smiled at his friend and looked out over the land that would now be his home. "Thank you, my friend, for coming to view the property with me. I know that you have many duties but I appreciate your assistance as I get my bearings."
His friend was known by many names; Cipíta Áce [2], Chief Dark River, William. Raising his arm to shield his eyes from the sun Dark River looked out over the acreage his friend had acquired in hopes of making a new life in Montana Territory as a cattle rancher and farmer. "You have two good streams on the property to provide irrigation and water for your livestock. You are close to the town. This is a lucky parcel you have purchased," the indian stated before turning to look at his younger friend. "When will you build?"
"I will be staying in town for a few days and will make arrangements for materials then. I would like to have it completed and be residing there long before the first snowfall, so I think two months should be enough time. I will oversee some of the work before returning to Washington D.C. to see my sisters, settle my affairs and bring my possessions for the house. It will be too late by then to purchase livestock so I will spend my first winter living on the goods I am bringing from the east. This will also give me time to plan for the coming planting and growing season and to settle the cattle transfer from the south. The drive will arrive in early summer from Oklahoma," Bingley responded. "What else can you tell me about the town and my neighbours?"
Dark River considered this for a moment before responding. "I fear you will find the society here very different than you are used to. Few families, though many men your age and older who have settled here after the wars to make it rich or escape. There are about 300 people who live in Lambton, which is the closest town and rail depot. Helena is somewhat bigger and will have some amusements for someone like you; but it will take two days to make it there from here. My peoples lands are about ten miles south of here and you can expect no interference from them, though at my direction they will assist you if you need it."
"It sounds delightful. As you know I have never been one for society and its useless trappings. And I am very excited to meet some of your friends!" Bingley exclaimed.
Hiding a smile at his friend's enthusiasm Dark River turned his horse and advised Bingley it would be wise to ride back to town for supper and to secure lodgings. Bingley had arrived on the morning train and was so excited to see his new property he rode out with his friend (on the horse Dark River gifted him with at the station), only stopping in town long enough to store his trunks with the friendly stationmaster until his return.
"I think I shall like this new life very much indeed!" Bingley stated with finality, surveying his land one more time before spurring his mount into motion and racing his friend back to town.
Jane Bennet, at 21, was exactly the kind of beauty one envisions when they hear the term "Southern Belle". Of good height with a willowy stature and excellent posture, she had perfect blonde ringlets and cornflower blue eyes. She was her mother's pride and joy and was doted on from birth. While many would have become vain and spoiled Jane was the soul of goodness and serenity. It was this inner peace that enabled her to sit quietly in the warm and rattling rail car as it made its way across the plains to her new home, far from her previous home in Georgia.
Elizabeth Bennet, affectionately called Lizzie, was two years younger than Jane and was not blessed with the qualities that her elder sister embodied. In fact, two more opposite girls would be hard to come by. Lizzie was petite and curvy, her mahogany hair was beautiful but unruly and her dark eyes sparkled with curiosity, wit and a small glimmer of trepidation for this journey to an unknown land. She eagerly eyed the passing scenery, tapped her foot against the floor, sighed and would pepper Jane with questions and possibilities of their new life.
Jane and Lizzie, the two eldest daughters of Thomas and Frances Bennet were on their way to live with their maternal uncle and aunt, a couple by the name of Gardiner. Eight months previous Thomas, their beloved papa, had died. Their father was a former plantation owner in Georgia. He was not a slave owner and paid and housed African Americans on his farm as full workers but he fought in the Civil War for the Confederacy regardless, seeing it not as a war about slavery but about state's rights. He was injured in battle, never quite recovered and was devastated to lose most of his plantation during Sherman's march to the sea. In the 15 years following the war he became an indolent small landowner, mostly keeping to his books and his beloved Lizzie, to the detriment of his wife and other daughters. After his death in 1882 the family is forced to retrench when it was discovered that money was owed to almost every merchant in their small Georgia town, not to mention their own household staff that had been working on promise of payment for almost a year. The manor was sold and Franny and her youngest three daughters were bundled off to live with her sister and brother-in-law in Savannah. Jane and Lizzie were invited to stay with their other uncle and aunt, despite never having met them, having maintained a faithful correspondence with the girls throughout their young life.
"Do you think we shall arrive before sunset?" Elizabeth asked, watching as the sun moved closer to the horizon in what looked to be the vastest expanse of sky she had ever seen.
"I am not sure, perhaps one of the gentlemen in the travelling delegation knows where we are. If we have to stop for the night I shall not repine, however. I am still so very grateful to our uncle for securing our passage on the rail to Billings, the new town Uncle says they are building just because of the rail line, given that passenger service on the Northern Pacific has not officially begun. Had we travelled by stage it would have been weeks, not days, for us to arrive!" Jane gently reminded her sister.
Elizabeth nodded in absent agreement with this observation and continued to keep her eyes glued to the scenery. "Look Jane! More buffalo!" she exclaimed, tugging excitedly on her sister's sleeve and pointing at the band of large beasts calmly loping across the plain. "I don't think I will ever grow tired of these views. And you are correct, another night would hardly signify, it is worth it to see the stars after dark. Have you ever seen so many! It is beautiful."
Jane smiled at her sister's enthusiasm and settled back into her seat, content to listen to Elizabeth's raptures and imagine her own future lay out before her.
George Wickham Jr. struggled to hide his displeasure at yet another poor hand dealt to him and settled back in his chair to study his opponents. Money was getting tight for Wickham, gold prospecting had not turned the quick and tidy profit he had expected and he was beginning to feel the heat from creditors in Helena. Knocking back his whiskey and throwing his cards on the table he made his way to the front of the saloon and out into the balmy night air. Summers in Montana were his favourite, if only they were longer.
Wickham had lived in the territories all his life, growing up in a small trading village near the Apsáalooke [3] lands to the southeast where his father had settled shortly before the outbreak of the Civil War. Despite being a white man he was raised by his father and the man he considered a second father, Chief Stands on Buffalo, almost as a native himself. While the Wickhams taught the Chief's young son and, later, daughter English and the ways of the white man, Stands on Buffalo made sure that young George could ride, hunt and fight with the best of his tribe.
The Chief's wife died birthing his daughter when the boys were ten and, six years later, both of Wickham's parents were killed by a winter fever. Stands on Buffalo took the teen orphan into his home and raised him alongside his own son, Dark River, despite his own failing health. Stands on Buffalo was killed in battle in an early skirmish of the Great Sioux War and Dark River was elected by the tribe to fill his father's position, despite his youth. The Apsáalooke were long enemies of the Lakota and they had preserved large territory in the past by working with the white man instead of antagonizing them. Dark River recognized these facts and was quick to ally with the United States Army against their native aggressors.
Wickham was not interested in fighting a war. He wasn't interested in much outside things that would make him rich and comfortable. When it came time to do battle he quickly deserted the ranks of his adopted people and headed west to look for opportunity. Dark Water never forgave his old friend's betrayal and the tribal elders agreed to keep the situation mostly quiet to avoid more ire from their people against baashchiili [4].
George Wickham continued to meander down Helena's dusty streets before approaching the boarding house he was currently hiding in.
"ANNA!" he shouted upon gaining admission to the foyer. "ANNA!"
A shrewd looking woman hurried down the stairs to stand before him. "Keep your voice down you lout! I am trying to run a business here! What do you want?"
"I was a girl tonight," Wickham told her. "A busty one."
Anna Younge studied the man in front of her before smiling thinly.
"You have no money to pay for one and the girls are here for making money, not for your amusement. If you don't start finding a way to pay for your room and board I might start selling you to the highest bidder! There is bound to be some depraved idiot in this town that will buy ya!"
In a blink of an eye Anna found Wickham's hand around her throat and her back against the wall.
"After all I've done for you this is how you repay me, Little Anna? Calling me out in my time of need?" he growled menacingly into her ear. "Maybe I should just use you to fulfill one of those needs."
He ground his pelvis against her and smiled, as her eyes grew even larger in fright.
"Nope, you're too ugly even for me," he stated casually and loosened his grip, watching her gasp for air. Before she could move away Wickham quickly backhanded her and snickered quietly as Anna crumbled with a cry to the floor. He moved to mount the stairs to his room before turning back to look once more at the sobbing figure on the ground.
"Send up whatever girl is done first. I don't want to have to revisit this discussion later."
Taking her whimper as a sign that she understood he took the stairs two at a time and quickly moved down the hall to his small room. Having been at Younge's for a month he had learned to ignore the noise emanating from the rooms adjacent and sat down on the bed.
"I need to get out of this town," he stated to no one in particular. "Maybe I should take Denny up on his offer and head to this new town being built. Billings is a little close to home for comfort, but the money might make that worth it."
Staring at the ceiling while contemplating his options, Wickham smiled when he heard the knock on his door. The smile grew wider and more malicious when the door opened to reveal one of Anna's newest and most timid acquisitions. He could worry about the future tomorrow, for now there were more pressing needs to attend to.
A few hundred miles away Dark River leaned against the wall in the local saloon, watching his friend ingratiate himself with his new neighbors'. Bingley was a jovial man with easy manners and an open countenance. Sipping his bourbon Dark River moved around the outskirts of the room, nodding in recognition to some of the patrons and averting his gaze from others.
Dark River had flirted with society matrons and knocked back whiskey with some of the biggest names in politics and industry in the east. He was a novelty to them, but a charming and handsome one so he was welcomed with open arms. Land and resource rich, attractive, well spoken, he was every the dream of every matchmaking mama; if only he was the right colour. William, as they all preferred to call him, endured it all with a smile because it was for his people. The Apsáalooke wanted to keep their land and be given preferential treatment by both the government and the Pacific Northern Railway during their expansion west through the Crow lands. William, with his charm and unaccented English, was able to assure this could happen and brought a time of peace and prosperity to his people. But still he knew what the white men were.
Some men had his respect. Men like Charles Bingley, who were truly kind and wished to prove themselves he could tolerate. But it was different with many others in the small town of Lambton. The men in Washington D.C. and New York and Boston made laws and decisions that hurt his people while following their ridiculous concept of manifest destiny, but they were smart enough to do this harm from a distance. These local men, these carpetbaggers, had the audacity to come to Montana and declare the land that should belong to his people their own. They put up fences where open plain should be. They introduced animals that decimated the indigenous populations. And then they had the gall to look at him and his kin like they were the ones that didn't belong.
Dark River avoided town if at all possible.
Noticing William Lucas, proprietor of the inn and the saloon he was in making his way over Dark River changed course and headed back towards Bingley. Lucas was gregarious and boorish but generally harmless. His main detraction was his unerring ability to insult Dark River's heritage and tribe without even realizing that what he was saying was ignorant and prejudiced.
'Best avoid that while Bingley is making his introductions to the town, no need to cause him grief in the future,' he thought, moving back to his friend.
Noting that Bingley was deep in conversation with Ed Gardiner pleased him. Gardiner was a good and fair man who always behaved respectfully and thoughtfully towards him and his people. He had been in the area for some years and in Montana for decades, earning him some of Dark River's respect in return.
"My two eldest nieces will be arriving in town tomorrow," he overheard Gardiner telling his friend. "We have never met them before, but they will be coming to live with us and we couldn't be more thrilled. Their letters have always shown them to be thoughtful and intelligent young ladies. I just hope they handle the adjustment to living in Montana Territory well."
Bingley smiled at this news. "Where are they coming from? I should like to meet them, it will be good to know other new folk."
"Jane and Elizabeth are coming from Georgia, where their late father was a farmer. He has been gone these eight months and their mother and other sisters have settled with my other brother still in that state," Gardiner replied.
Dark River suppressed a snort at this news and shook his head slightly. 'I doubt two debutantes from Georgia could survive here an hour! What could Gardiner be thinking? Unless he is hoping to marry them off to an unsuspecting homesteader before it is found that they cannot cook or keep house or raise children. Worse, both girls are probably expecting to marry wealthy gold prospectors and be the belles of what passes for society here. Baráx biawak! [5]' he thought.
Taking his leave of Bingley and promising to return in the morning Dark River left the crowded saloon and mounted his waiting horse. As he rode away from town and towards his home a sense of calmness washed over him. Looking to the west at the smallest bit of sun still visible and then to the stars already coming out in to the east he thanked the spirits for the beauty of this land that spoke to him as if it coursed through his very veins.
A further 200 miles east Jane and Elizabeth had stopped their journey for the night. The train needed to trade out supplies in Glendive and would wait until morning to commence the final leg of its journey. Mrs. Bakewell, the wife of one of the delegates travelling in the party and an old friend of Mrs. Gardiner's, secured a room for the girls at the inn with the rest of the group and then invited the girls down to the dining room for a late repast.
"I am not sure it would be appropriate for us to dine in such a place," Jane demurred. "Would it be possible to have something brought up?"
Mrs. Bakewell smiled at Jane and explained, "don't fret a moment. This is a nice hotel and the chef for the restaurant here is even French! I would never allow us to dine in some rowdy saloon, though you will have to remember that the further west we travel the less elegant the dining options will be. So far we have been lucky. And in Lambton you will be exposed to elements like those you have read about."
Jane fussed her hands a bit but agreed to go down with the matron. Lizzie, on the other hand, was ecstatic for what she considered yet another adventure on this journey.
"Do you really think we'll see a real saloon in Lambton, like the ones in the paper? Will there be shootouts and Indians? Oh Mrs. Bakewell this is all so exciting!"
The elder woman laughed at her younger charge and tried to reign in her thoughts. "I am sure you will see the saloon in Lambton, but I doubt it will live up to your imaginings. And yes, there will be indians, there is a reservation of Crow right near town as I am sure your Uncle has mentioned. I can't imagine that you will see a shootout nor why you would want to see one. Come along. We need to get down to meet our dining companions. If you are lucky we will take you out tonight to meet some of the local families with girls your age. And I know you want more time to stare at the stars in the sky Miss Eliza!"
Jane and Elizabeth linked arms and followed Mrs. Bakewell out of the room. The meal was just a splendid as predicted and Jane was calmed by the normalcy of the well-appointed dining room. As she relaxed her sister did too. The men wished to retire to the bar, where young ladies most certainly would not be welcome, so instead of exploring some of Glendive the girls returned to their room.
Brushing out her thick, dark hair Elizabeth stared out the window and let the night air and the sounds of the town wash over her.
"Come Lizzie, we must sleep. The sooner you do the sooner tomorrow will come and we will finally arrive in Lambton!" Jane called from one of the two twin beds in the cozy room.
Smiling over her shoulder at her sister, Lizzie let her know she would be there in a moment. Turning back to the window she stared up that the stars, already visible though the sky was still in twilight. Finding one that seemed particularly bright she focused on it for a time.
'Please, let us find happiness here,' she wished, and moved to retire for the night.
[1] Dark River and some others will often use a few Crow words in their speech, even when talking to white men. Baaláax is Crow for a male friend or brother. It should be noted here that I have no knowledge of the Crow language aside from what is in the dictionary I am using. I apologize for any syntax issues or inaccuracies. I am also not an expert on history, Montana, railways or Native Americans. Though I love all of those things and enjoy them very much.
[2] Cipíta Áce is Crow for Dark River, which is his adult name. Crow children frequently had a name at birth that was changed once they reached childhood and a personality had been established. They would then get a name based on one of those personality traits. As a teenager their father would then usually bestow on them a new name that might have basis in their skills and talents or other accomplishment. Dark River was the name his father gave him as a teenager. Mrs. Wickham, who was a major influence in his young life along with her husband, gave him the English moniker William after her own father. Ostensibly she did this to make it easier for the townspeople to interact with him, while he was learning English as a child.
[3] Apsáalooke is one of the proper names for the Crow Indians in their own language. They may also be referred to as Absaroka.
[4] Baashchiili would be a common Crow word for white men, though it literally means "yellow men" which is how they saw those that were not "red skins" such as themselves and other Native Americans.
[5] Baráx biawak translates (as far as I can make it) to "foolish women". I was aiming for something along the lines of "silly chits." Let the pride and the prejudice begin!
Thank you for giving this a shot and please let me know if you liked it. I plan to update with chapter two this weekend.