“When you going to have a proper service for his Lordship?” Riley asked Hawk.
“Tomorrow night.”
“I heard as how some suggested he should be buried in some big family vault in Scotland,” Sam said.
“His wishes were always clear. He wanted to be buried at Mayfair, next to my mother,” Hawk said. “He’ll have what hewanted. I’ll get the Reverend Mathews out tomorrow around dusk to say the words. You all ride on out if you wish.”
“Be fittin’,” Riley said.
“He was one fine man.”
“He was.”
Riley was suddenly staring at Skylar. “Did you know him well, Miss—Lady Douglas?” he asked politely.
Hawk had suddenly ceased to eat. He was watching her, just as politely, his coffee cup in his hands. “Did you know him well, my dear?”
“I knew him well enough to know that he was aware he was ill, though he had told no one else,” she said, returning Hawk’s challenging stare.
His eyes darkened. He lifted his cup to her. “What a deep and binding friendship,” he murmured, and only she, Skylar was certain, could hear the biting sarcasm in the comment. “I can’t wait for you to tell me all about it,” he continued politely. “Which I’m sure you’ll be doing very soon.”
“It’s difficult these days to be too sure about anything, isn’t it?” she inquired pleasantly.
He smiled. Sipped his coffee. “There are some things of which I am very sure,” he said softly.
“But you’re determined to find out things on your own,” she reminded him.
“You’ve suggested I do so.”
“From experience I know that you do so.”
“Sometimes it’s easier when I’m given a little information.”
“Pity is that you don’t seem to like to accept information when you’re given it,” she said very sweetly, very aware that both Riley and Sam had grown very silent, their eyes darting nervously from her to Hawk and from Hawk back to her again.
Hawk stared at her hard, setting down his cup. “You’re right. What I have to find out, I will,” he said simply. Then he stoodabruptly. “Riley, you are managing to have food here good enough to attract a crowd. We’re trying to keep the population down around here, remember?”
“There’s gold here, Hawk. Ain’t much chance of that.”
“Reckon you’re right. I’m going to give Willow a hand with the coffin, then we’ll be on our way. Thanks for taking Pa in, Riley.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for him,” Riley said sadly.
Hawk nodded, acknowledging the compliment. His eyes suddenly riveted on Skylar. “We’ll be on our way in a matter of minutes. Be ready.”
She resented his tone and didn’t reply. It didn’t matter. He didn’t expect a reply. He went down the hallway. It didn’t seem that a full minute had passed before she could see him and Willow through the doorway, carrying the coffin out to the wagon.
“So his attacking ‘Indians’ all speak excellent English as well!” Skylar murmured aloud.
“Now, young lady, that’s not quite true,” Sam said. “Lots of his kin learned some of the language from David, and some Indians as of late have been learning what they can of the white man’s tongue in self-defense, but don’t you go assuming anything around here. Willow lives not far from Mayfair. He’s got the prettiest little mixed-race baby girl you’d ever want to see. But the other two Oglala with Hawk the other day are just about ready to turn their backs on all that’s white, period, plain and simple. Then, you gotta remember this—many Sioux don’t think a thing about trading with a white man one day and declaring war on him the next. These are dangerous times. You remember to take care out here, young lady. Great care!”
Skylar nodded. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll do that.”
“We’d best be getting you out there,” Riley said anxiously. “Looks like Hawk’s about ready.”
“And Hawk can’t wait a minute like anybody else, hmm?” Skylar asked him.
Riley stared at her, shaking his grizzled head. “Why, ma’am, I guess he’s just ready to get his father back home again.”
