Guilty as Sin

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by Rita Hestand


  "We are not bound. You can go your way now. I can take care of myself. And you don't owe me."

  "Honesty is a virtue. Fifty years ago, no one would put an Indian on the stand to be a witness." He told her. "Today in some courts it is possible. It is strange. I could tell your father the truth of what happened, and he would not listen. You could tell them I killed to protect you, and they probably wouldn't believe you either. I suppose the truth is hard to accept in the white world."

  "Are you going to turn yourself in?" she asked.

  "No, because when a murder is first discovered, people become hostile and they let that anger get a hold of them. Tempers fly. Ropes come out, they tend to want to hang someone for it. After time passes, they cool down and start thinking about why they died, and who killed them, and maybe even why they were killed. So now, we must run, and keep running until we find a place where we can live and go on with life. You are an innocent woman, and I killed to protect you, it is simple but very hard to make others believe."

  "You're right. Who'd believe an Indian saved a white woman?"

  "In time the truth usually comes out."

  "We are both guilty as sin, according to them."

  He came up to her, close and grabbed her arms so she would look into his face. "You are guilty of nothing, but I did kill. Only you are witness to why. So, we must keep each other alive so that someday the truth will come out."

  "I guess you are right." She stared into his face as though seeing him for the first time. "I will do my part."

  "It is agreed then, we will stay together."

  "It could cause more problems, being together."

  "Yes, but at least we won't face this alone."

  She stared at him with a smile, "Alright." She agreed.

  Chapter Three

  All morning they ran, when she began to stumble and could run no longer, he stopped and stared. "I will carry you."

  "It's alright, I can manage."

  "You will fall and hurt yourself and then we cannot run. I will carry you. Take your boots off." He told her.

  She took them off.

  "These boots, they are my father's, they are too big for me. But when I work, slopping hogs and cleaning out the barn, I need them and wear them."

  "Do your feet hurt now?"

  "A little."

  "I will fix them later. But you still may fumble and fall over things. They are much too big. When we quit running, I'll make you some leggings, and your feet won't hurt any longer."

  "You can make them?"

  "Yes,"

  "Thanks, that's very kind of you."

  Finally, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and ran. She seemed light as a feather and except for her clothes, not a bother.

  He must have run miles before he stopped. He set her down and she looked at him, from his dark head of hair with the beautiful feathers in it, to the muscular build of him, to his leggings. She had seen many Indians but why this one appealed she did not know. Perhaps because she was getting to know him.

  She looked stunned. She didn't talk while he carried her, he ran so hard that she was afraid she's fall off his shoulder.

  When he set her down, she pushed her hair out of the way and glanced at him.

  "I cannot believe you could carry me for such a long way. You're hardly out of breath." He set her boots down for her to put on.

  "I run a lot." He smiled. "And you are not heavy."

  After a long silence she asked, "Was it really the storm that brought you to my barn? I mean Indians are used to being out in the weather, aren't they?"

  "Some weather, yes. I do not lie to you Lissa. You cannot sleep out in the open during a storm, it is impossible. I know I have tried. The thunder is too loud and shakes the earth, the lightning is blinding. I had planned to leave before I was spotted. And I did not mean to listen to you and this Earl. But I could not silence my ears."

  She thought about that for a moment and chuckled. "I suppose that makes good sense. But I'm curious. So, tell me, why did you let me come along, I know you must have changed your mind."

  "You were a stranger, and I did not know of your plight. I did not think it wise for you to come with me at first. If we are caught what do you think they would think?" he stared at her for a moment, his glance going over her with understanding and tolerance now. "I did kill, but only to protect. But you are in great trouble, and I didn't realize this at first, so I was put out with you. You are an innocent, as I heard this with my own ears. I know this. But you are a head-strong woman, and I understand why now." He glanced at her comically, "I'll admit, I have not thought this through. I think you very brave for dealing with your drunken father so long, and then this Earl too. You have had much trouble, and despite my misgivings, I will try to help you."

  "I'm glad you changed your mind, and I will do anything I can to help make this trip easier. But, don't you think we need some kind of plan?"

  "Yes, we will rest, and I will think on it."

  "I never asked, but are you married?" she asked staring at him now.

  "No, I never married. Why do you ask such a question?" He asked with a knowing smile.

  "Well, if I were your wife, I would not like you running around with some crazy woman."

  He chuckled. "You do have a sense of humor."

  "Do you have a girl?"

  "A girl, have her?"

  "No, I mean do you love someone in your tribe?"

  "Once I did. But because I no longer wanted war, she turned away from me. She thought me a coward."

  Lissa frowned. "A woman doesn't see much of what a war is all about. She could not know what it was like. I'm sorry, that must have been hard to take."

  "You are wrong. Indian women know about war, soldiers come to the camps and kill women and children. So, they are aware of war much more than a white woman would be. But I have no vengeance in my heart. I know that you cannot even a score. What is done, you cannot change. And the Indian will lose the battle with all these wars. I can see this, my tribe cannot."

  "I'm sorry. It must be painful for you. I mean her rejection, just because you wanted peace." She told him.

  "No, if she thought that, then I did not want her, and it's best I found out before I married her. Trust is the most important thing, even before love. I wanted a God-fearing woman who loved me and trusted me above all."

  Lissa stared, "I guess you are right. Trust is important. I don't trust my father, especially when he drinks. I didn't trust Earl. Tell me, did everyone think you a coward?"

  "Many did, yes. Get some sleep, we will travel more later."

  She nodded then touched his arm. "Just so you know… I don't believe you're a coward. You could have left the barn the moment you heard me and Earl arguing. Instead, you stayed and protected me. You fought for someone you didn't even know. That is bravery."

  He stared for a long moment, her gaze met his, and something stirred within him. How could a woman, especially a white woman, who barely knew him trust him so?

  He watched her curl up on the ground, pulling her torn dress around her, she closed her eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. He marveled at that. There was no fear of him in her. This softened his heart. It made no sense to him how a white woman could trust him so easily, when she'd been surrounded by men she couldn't. Perhaps that's how she knew the difference. She was quite a woman, and stronger than she knew.

  A woman that was guilty could not sleep so easily. This woman was an innocent. He would protect her.

  Moon stared for a long while at her. She was a beautiful woman, barely a woman, but very beautiful. He looked upon her, all of her with his gaze. There was more to his taking her with him than he first realized. He could not think on such things. But it would always be there in some corner of his heart. She was such a beautiful little creature. He supposed being alone so long weakened his immunity to women, for something pulled at his heart strings when he looked upon her.

  Being alone in this vast land for
so long, could make a person go crazy, he reasoned.

  He had no right to look upon her like he was doing but as long as she was asleep, there was no real harm in it.

  He needed someone to be with every now and then. Someone to talk to. But why her?

  At least she was intelligent.

  He knew her father would jump to a lot of conclusions and all of them wrong, and she would feel the brunt of his anger. He did not wish her to be in trouble, especially with her father. But what kind of father did not love his girl child. And what kind of father would ever harm her.

  A step-father, that's what she called him! It was a new word that he wrestled with in his mind.

  In his tribe many children were orphaned from the many wars they fought. But the children were quickly taken in by other families. They were loved and treated fairly. They barely realized they were not blood kin. Were the white people that different. Could they not love another's child?

  What kind of life had she had?

  Perhaps he did her a service by taking her away.

  The white man might be superior in many ways compared to the Indian, but their lack of feelings for each other astounded him. Their sense of judgement seemed off too, for anyone could see this Earl was not a good man.

  She was better off with him, he admitted, for he would never harm her. In fact, he was determined to protect her.

  After a couple of hours sleep, he woke her.

  She sat up and looked at him, "Did you sleep?" she asked.

  "No, I was thinking."

  "Oh, figure anything out?"

  "We'll go see Jack."

  "Your friend, how far away does he live?"

  "It will take many moons before we reach his place." He told her.

  "Alright. I feel a little better now. I sure did sleep well."

  He waited until she started to fold the blanket before he stared at her. He reasoned she had many troubled and sleepless nights in her life.

  "Good, we will travel until darkness settles."

  She nodded scrambling to her feet. A bit groggy she stumbled, and her hands landed against his chest. Warm hard flesh, with the silkiest of skin. He caught her and steadied her but kept her at a distance.

  She stared up at him, he wasn't that much taller, but he was very lean, and he gave off the appearance of being much taller than he was. "I got up too quickly."

  "Yes," he stared down into her face. But tension grew between them and she didn’t understand it.

  "There is one thing we must speak of," he told her.

  She handed him the blanket.

  "Alright, what is it?" She turned her attention on him once more.

  "White men." He said simply.

  "White men, I don't understand." She looked puzzled at him. He rolled the blanket up so he could carry it on his shoulder once more.

  "If we run into white men, they will not accept us being together. None of them."

  She thought about that a moment, and nodded, "You are right. They wouldn't. It would seem you and I understand that people are all just people, but there are many that don't see this."

  "We must have a ready story or hide. Which do you prefer?" He asked her, staring at her now from a distance.

  She looked at him once more, all of him, then up to his face. "I do not believe they would believe any story. They'd probably think the same thing my father would. They'd probably kill you. So, we must hide. For if they found me alone, they might try to take me with them. So, hiding is the best thing."

  "I agree."

  "You do?" she looked into his face and saw a glimmer of a smile.

  "Yes, they would not believe any story. And they would try to take you with them." He nodded. "You are a smart woman. But it puzzles me, why do you trust me so, and not other white men? I would think it would be the other way around."

  "I confuse you, don't I?" she laughed.

  "Some, yes."

  "It is not trust exactly that you speak of. I know how people jump to conclusions, how they judge others. White do this all the time. It is in our nature, I suppose. I have witnessed it many times. I know how they would react. One old farmer brought a young man to town to the Sheriff and told him he stole a pig. The Sheriff arrested him. Before the sun went down a bunch of men in the saloon had heard the story and quickly decided that the young man should hang."

  "Did he hang?"

  "Yes. These people, mostly white, wanted to see justice. But strangely, after the hanging, all of them seemed to realize what they had done in the blink of an eye. They hung their heads as they watched him swing from the ropes. And no one, including the Sheriff who allowed this to happen said another word about what happened."

  "It is the way of some men. I suppose I should be thankful that you are a thinking woman."

  She smiled. "You on the other hand, saved me from Earl, something you didn't have to do. You took me with you, another thing you didn't have to do. You say you want to protect me, and as strange as it might seem, no one has ever wanted to protect me, since my mother died." She stared at him for a moment with a hint of a tear in her eyes. "I know by your expressions that you did not want to take me with you, but you did. I thought about all of this, you seem to have a great respect for right and wrongs. But most of all, because you let me come with you, I trust you. The very act of protecting someone lends trust."

  He stared now, surprised, "Then we agree!"

  "Agree?"

  "I trust you too, Lady."

  "Thank you," she smiled at him and suddenly his facial expression changed.

  Her smile widened too.

  "Well, at least we have a plan on that."

  "Yes," he put the blanket on his shoulder with a leather strap tied around it and turned away. "We have a plan."

  "You're sorry you brought me now, aren't you?" she said in a low voice just behind him.

  He turned around slowly but didn't look at her. "No, I am not sorry. And I do not believe I brought you," he smiled at her now with understanding. "You followed and I let you. It was the right thing to do. No matter what your father would believe of you, it would not be good to leave you with him, or alone in these woods. Besides, you are my witness. I need you."

  "I promise, I won't be a burden." She rushed to say.

  "It is getting dark, now. I will hunt for our supper. You stay here, we are high on a ledge now and you can see for miles, if anyone comes, see if you can make this call."

  He put his hands over his mouth and made a bird call.

  She watched and listened.

  "Now, you try."

  She made a sound, but it was nothing like a bird. They practiced for a while and she did have some kind of call. He nodded, "That will do. At least I'll know it is you making the sound." He chuckled.

  He left and it was a while before he came back. When he did, she was sitting on the ledge and crying.

  He saw the tears and was puzzled.

  "What is wrong?" He came up to her.

  She saw him and jumped up and ran into his arms. It was instinct, nothing more, but it shocked Shining Moon.

  Her arms flew around his neck and she hung on.

  "What is wrong?" he repeated as he pulled her arms away and looked into her face.

  "I-I thought you weren't coming back." She cried and turned away, ashamed of showing her weakness. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward."

  "What made you think I would leave you here alone?"

  "I-I thought maybe you wanted to be rid of me," she looked up at him a bit guiltily. "I know I talk too much. Most men hate that. Well, you were gone so long. I wouldn't blame you. I guess I'm not as strong as I thought."

  He cupped her chin with the crook of his finger which barely touched her chin and smiled warmly down at her. "I would not leave you in such a place, alone and defenseless."

  "But you would leave me."

  He studied the worry in her face and wanted to dispel it. "If there was a safe place for you to be. A better place, yes. But not out
here in the wilderness, alone. That would be murder for any woman."

  "I'm not a weepy woman. And I can take care of myself." She quickly assured him, wiping her eyes. "But I really thought maybe you rethought it and decided that leaving me would be better for both our sakes. I wouldn't blame you for it."

  "It would in some ways," He nodded and puzzled over what he wanted to say. "But in other ways it could mean real problems if you had to face your father alone." He smiled as he turned his head away.

  "I'm sorry, I guess I just got scared, that's all." She backed away. "It was so quiet, and I was never so alone in my life. Sometimes, I talk bolder than I am. I'm used to being alone, it's just… "

  "You do not have to explain everything you do to me. You are a woman, and crying is natural for a woman." He produced two rabbits and smiled, "There is no need for you to be afraid. I will protect you. And we have a good supper."

  She saw the rabbits and smiled.

  Later as he made a spit and a fire, they sat back and stared at the stars. "It's beautiful here."

  "Yes, but it is beautiful in many places if you take the time to look." He smiled.

  "I guess you are right. But sometimes what seems beautiful to one, is ugly to another. Like my home. I thought it ugly. Even though I cleaned it every day, I thought it an ugly place."

  "Perhaps it wasn't the home that was ugly, but the things that surrounded you." He told her.

  "Your very intelligent. I never knew a man to think so much, especially an Indian. Did you go to school?" she twisted her head to look at him. The firelight flickered, illuminating his face, she stared. She'd never looked at an Indian, like she did Moon. He was intelligent, brave, and a very good person. She liked talking to him, he made sense. That was rare where she came from.

  "Yes, some time ago I attended the mission school. My father always told me he wanted me to be smart, what you call intelligent. He said wise men don't make fools of themselves."

  "He sounds intelligent too." She smiled.

  "Was your father an educated man?"

  "My step-father was smart in some ways, not book learning, but in how to manage. But according to my mother, my real father was very intelligent."

  "And you… did you go to school?"

 

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