Yes.” He didn’t have to trot to keep
up with her, although she walked mighty fast for such a shorty.
“Anyhow, I know you’ll enjoy it. You haven’t lived until you’ve
seen Chicago and the Exposition at night, all lit up, from the top
of the Ferris Wheel.”
That got her attention, by God. Her eyes were
huge when she glanced up at him. “Really? I’ve been wanting to go,
but there’s so little time.”
“ You’ve got time right now,” he pointed
out.
Thunderous applause reached them from the
arena. Rose paused to watch. When H.L. did likewise, he saw what
looked like a million mounted men, some in soldiers’ uniforms and
some in breach clouts and feathered headbands, galloping out of the
arena. Rose waved to several of them.
Colonel Cody and an Indian gentleman spotted
Rose and H.L. and trotted over. Rose smiled with unfeigned
admiration and what looked to H.L. like adoration at Buffalo
Bill.
“ Sounds like the crowd loved you as
usual, Colonel.”
Buffalo Bill saluted H.L. and leaned over to
give Rose a kiss on the cheek. “That they did, Rosie. I see you’re
giving an interview. Good work!” He reined his white horse around
and trotted back toward the arena. “Got to take another bow and
introduce Missie. Have fun, Rosie! Show that reporter fellow a good
time. It’ll be good for the Wild West!”
Rose frowned.
H.L. grinned.
The Indian did neither. Rather, he
stared at H.L. in a noncommittal way for so long that it actually
made H.L. uneasy, which was a feat few men had accomplished.
Slightly peeved, H.L. said, “Hello, there. My name’s H.L. May. I
write for the Globe . He
reached up to shake the Indian’s hand, but the gesture was ignored.
H.L. chalked it up to cultural differences.
The Indian transferred his unreadable gaze to
Rose. “This man bothering you, Wind Dancer?”
The fellow’s voice was deep, sort of
guttural, and it made H.L. think of prairie grasses blowing in the
wind, which was weird, since he’d never seen prairie grasses
blowing in the wind. Uneasily, he eyed the rifle gripped in the
man’s hand and the tomahawk stuck in his waistband. “I’m not
bothering her.”
Rose opened her mouth, and H.L. held his
breath. He didn’t think this guy would scalp him, but he wasn’t
sure. After keeping him in suspense for several seconds, Rose
finally said, “No. I guess he’s not really bothering me. Little
Elk, this man is a reporter who wants to write an article about
me.”
“ More than one article,” H.L. hastened
to correct her. “She’s great, and she deserves lots of publicity.”
He grinned at the Indian, who didn’t grin back, the same way he
hadn’t shaken his hand. H.L. sighed.
“ She’s the best rider in the world,”
Little Elk said matter-of-factly.
Rose gave him a pretty smile. “Little Elk
taught me everything I know how to do on horseback. He has to say
that.”
At long last, the Indian grinned. “Naw.
You’re great.” He made a brief gesture to H.L. “What you going to
do with her?”
H.L. cleared his throat. Shoot, this was
worse than asking a proper lady’s father if he could come
a’courting. “I was only going to take her on the Ferris Wheel. The
lights of the fair and the city are wonderful to see at night from
on top of the wheel.”
Suddenly, Rose gave a start and brightened
visibly. “Say, I have a splendid idea! Why doesn’t Little Elk come
with us?”
Damn. H.L. squinted first at Rose, and then
at the Indian, who looked smug. H.L. didn’t know Indians could do
that. He thought they were supposed to be stoical and
impassive.
What the hell. He shrugged. “Sure. Come on
along.”
At least his acquiescence in the matter
prompted Rose to quit arguing with him. That was a good thing.
# # #
Little Elk chomped popcorn contentedly. So
did Rose. This really was fun. She’d never been to a fair. In
England, she’d been introduced to Queen Victoria herself, not to
mention the Prince of Wales—he was so portly that she
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