While Ben’s back was turned, her hand groped along the dirty floor. Her seeking fingers closed around the broken stool leg. Ben turned back toward her and leaned down with a smile. She twisted around and with one last desperate effort, she smashed the stool leg against his head. He slumped against her without a sound.
She scrambled to her feet, rushed to the door, and pulled it open. She blinked as she surveyed her surroundings. The tiny cabin was in a small clearing enclosed by heavy forest. A meadow filled with wildflowers was in front of the door, and a narrow, barely discernible path ran through the middle of the meadow. She caught a glimpse of Labe’s head over near a stand of aspen with his back to the cabin.
Watching to make sure Labe didn’t see her, she stumbled along the path, casting furtive glances behind her to make sure neither Labe nor Ben was following her. The path narrowed further, then disappeared at the bank of a small stream. Sarah sank to her knees and drank.
Birds twittered from the budding branches above her head, but that was the only sound as she followed the stream into the forest. The stream soon joined a larger river, and Sarah rushed along the bank. How long would it be before Ben regained consciousness? He would pursue her. She had to get as far away as she could.
Labe had fallen asleep leaning against an aspen tree, but he woke with a jump when Ben staggered out of the cabin.
“Where is she?” Ben looked around wildly.
“Who?” Labe peered past Ben into the dark cabin as if trying to see Sarah.
“Who do you think?” Ben held his aching head and tried to think. “Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Honest, Ben, I didn’t see nothin’.” He backed away from his brother and stared slack jawed as Ben stumbled toward the horses. “Where you going? I thought we was going to hole up here for a few days.”
“Plans have changed.” Ben tightened the cinch on his mare’s belly. “Thanks to you, I’ve got to track Miss Sarah down.”
“Can’t we just leave her be?”
Ben wiped away a bit of blood from his face. “She’s not getting off after what she did to me.” He swung into the saddle and waited impatiently while Labe followed suit. Ben’s face burned. No one got in Ben Croftner’s way without paying for it.
The sun told her it was midafternoon, and Sarah stopped beside the river. Her head was light from lack of food, and she had to rest for a moment. She sank down on a large rock and looked around, trying to think. She had to find something to eat or she’d never make it.
Wearily, she forced herself to her feet again and searched the bushes, grateful for the forest lore Rand had taught her when they were growing up. After several minutes, she found some berries she knew were edible, and she crammed handfuls into her mouth, grimacing at their bitter taste. Using her fingernails, she dug the roots of another edible plant out of the ground. She washed the soil off in the river and then crunched them down.
A little clearer-headed, she stared along the riverbank again. She would make it. She strode off with new determination.
But by the next morning, she was no longer so certain. She itched from what seemed like a thousand mosquito bites. The insects had swarmed around her all night, a living haze of biting misery. So weak now from hunger and fatigue, she could barely stagger with one foot in front of the other. She’d startled awake with every sound all night. Coyotes had howled, their voices closer than she had ever heard them, and once a large animal had snuffled right next to her, causing her to freeze, too terrified to move for several long minutes.
Now, as the sun tipped to the west, her steps slowed. She rounded a curve in the river, forcing herself forward, and then stood still.
She was face-to-face with a band of ten or so Sioux warriors. Their faces were painted and one young man had a livid scar across his cheek. The blood drained from her face, and then darkness claimed her.
SIX
Rand rode silently through the woods, hardly looking at the other men for fear he’d see the fear he felt in their eyes. Jacob reined his horse in suddenly and dismounted. He bent over and picked something off the ground.
“What is it?” Rand’s voice was hoarse. He held out his hand and Jacob dropped a brooch into it.
They’d both seen it many times. The delicate filigree rose customarily adorned the bodice of Sarah’s dress. Rand had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday before he left for the war. Hard to believe it had been over three years.
He stared at the dainty pin, and his face turned hard as he fought to control the pain that surged through him. “At least we know we’re on the right trail. Everyone always said Rooster could follow a wood tick on solid rock.” Rand picked up the reins, gripped by a renewed sense of urgency. “Let’s get going.”
Rooster led the way, his keen eyes following the fresh trail. They splashed across the stream and picked their way up a steep hill. He glanced around at the silent men as they paused at the top. “Reckon we all fell a little bit in love with that gal.” His voice was hoarse.
“Don’t say it like she’s gone!” Isaac’s knuckles were white where they gripped the reins. “We can’t be more than a few hours behind her.” He urged his horse forward and took the lead through a line of trees.
Rand and Jacob, following close behind, reined in at the sound of a startled snort. Two bear cubs bleated and rolled toward their mother. Mama bear swung around from her perusal of a fallen tree trunk, ready to face the threat to her offspring.
Rand’s eyes met the grizzly’s. She roared angrily as she rose to her hind feet, a good seven feet tall. Her mouth wide with another roar, she dropped to all fours and charged toward them.
Jacob was closest, and his horse shied. He fell to the ground. The bear loomed over him and opened her giant mouth. He grabbed for his gun, but it lay three feet away where it had fallen from his holster when he was catapulted from the saddle. He scrabbled backward, away from the grizzly.
“Lie still, boy!” Rooster aimed his Winchester at the bear’s head, just as Rand frantically aimed his own gun.
The rifles barked, but not before the grizzly swiped at Jacob’s leg with her claws. She swung her head in dull surprise, then crashed to the ground beside Jacob.
Blood was already pouring from Jacob’s leg, soaking his torn pants. “Quick, hand me the canteen!” Rand fell to his knees beside his brother.
Rooster handed him the canteen. “Clean it good, boy, or it’ll fester for sure. No telling where that bear’s claws have been.”
Rand ripped the fabric away from the wound and splashed it with water again and again. Jacob’s flesh was flayed so badly that the bone gleamed through the shredded skin. Rand tried to keep the dismay from his face as he bound the wound with a clean handkerchief.
Jacob’s face was pale and sweat sheened his forehead as he gritted his teeth against the pain. “Sorry, Rand.” His face contracted frustration. “We were so close.”
Rand patted his brother’s leg. “You’re going to be all right.” He prayed the words were true. But he couldn’t abandon Sarah. Somehow he had to arrange to get Jacob back to the fort while he pressed on to find her.
Isaac crouched beside him and gave Jacob a sip of water. “How bad is it?”
Rand turned his head away so Jacob couldn’t hear. “Bad. It’s deep in his thigh muscle—to the bone. He’ll be in even more pain when the shock wears off. We need to find someplace for him to hole up.” He paused bleakly. “He won’t be riding for a while.”
Isaac nodded. “I hunted this area last year. If I remember right, there’s a small cabin just beyond the woods to our north. Let’s make for there. It’s almost dark anyway.”
Rand fought to keep despair from settling in as they mad
e a rough travois to carry Jacob. This delay could be deadly for Sarah.
Isaac led the way through the trees. Rand spared a thought for the motherless bear cubs, but there was nothing they could do for them. He found himself smiling, thinking that if Sarah were there, she would probably have insisted they catch the cubs and bring them home to raise. His smile faded to a frown of pain as he was washed anew with fear for Sarah.
The light was murky by the time they stepped out of the forest and into a small meadow clearing. The cabin squatted against the sloping north side, and they hurried toward its meager haven.
The open door creaked in the gentle breeze as they swung off their horses. “Me and the men will take care of the horses,” Rooster said. “Git that boy inside. Better clean the wound again too.”
Rand and Isaac carefully lifted Jacob off the travois and carried him into the dark cabin. They laid him on a moldy mattress in the corner.
“Light a lantern, Isaac.” Rand eased his brother’s boots off and untied the handkerchief on Jacob’s leg.
Isaac lit the lantern, and the dim glow pushed the shadows back. The wound had reopened from the jostling on the travois, and Jacob lay unconscious.
One of the other men came in with a small flask in his hand. “Rooster says he brought it along for medicinal purposes.”
Rand uncapped the flask and poured a generous amount of alcohol into Jacob’s gaping wound. He thrashed and cried out, then lapsed back into unconsciousness as Rand rebound the wound.
“I reckon that’s all we can do,” he said to Isaac.
“Except pray.”
Rand looked at Isaac, then back at his brother. He nodded and knelt on the floor, Isaac beside him as they each asked God for his help. After a few minutes, Isaac got to his feet, but Rand stayed where he was. At last he stood, and a new peace filled his heart. He felt his first real sense of hope that they might find Sarah alive and well.
They made up their beds on the dirt floor. Rand checked on Jacob several times throughout the night as his brother thrashed restlessly. Finally at dawn, he touched Jacob’s forehead and found it cool. He breathed a sigh as he pulled on his boots and woke the others.
The first rays of sunrise pushed through bare branches as Rand sat eating a cold breakfast of hardtack and dried meat under a tree. They had to find her today.
Rooster burst into the clearing. “She was here! Our little gal was here!”
Rand jumped up and gripped Rooster’s arm. “What are you talking about?”
“Our Sarah was here. Look!” Rooster held out a scrap of familiar green-and-yellow calico.
Rand fingered the soft cloth. “Where did you find it?” He pressed it against his lips and inhaled, but there was no lingering fragrance other than of mud.
“Down by the stream. And I found her trail—she’s alone.” Rooster almost danced in jubilation.
Rand stared at the scrap of fabric, almost giddy with relief. She’d gotten away from whoever had held her captive. “Let’s check Jacob.”
When he stepped into the cabin, he found Jacob sitting up, sipping a thin gruel made of water and hardtack. He gave them a wan smile. “Sorry, Rand. Guess I won’t be in any shape to travel for a few days.”
Rand nodded. “I’m just thankful you’re alive.” He grinned, eager to wipe the look of guilt off Jacob’s face. “I have to wonder, though, if you didn’t get in that bear’s way just so you’d have a good story to tell back at Bedlam.”
He waited until Jacob smiled weakly, and then Rand turned to the group of privates who were crouching against the wall eating their hardtack. “I want you soldiers to stay with Jacob until he can travel, then get him back to the fort. Isaac and Rooster will come with me to find Sarah.” He cocked an eyebrow at his two friends. “Okay with you?”
“Let’s get going.” Isaac’s eyes were hooded.
Rand eyed him. He hadn’t even stopped to think how this was affecting Isaac. Their affection for the same woman wasn’t something either of them would be comfortable talking about either.
Rooster nodded. “I’ll saddle up the horses.”
Fifteen minutes later, Rand was almost jubilant as they followed Sarah’s clear trail.
“That gal will never make an Injun,” Rooster muttered. “She leaves a path even a greenhorn could follow.”
Near noon, they rounded a bend in the river they were following and Rooster stopped short. He whistled in dismay. Sarah’s clear tracks were obliterated by unshod pony tracks and moccasin prints. “Looks like the Injuns caught her.”
Rand stood staring at the telltale marks, his heart pounding. So close to finding her and now this. He swallowed hard as he fought to hold on to his new faith and hope. “Can you tell what kind of Indians?”
“Hard to say, but I’d guess Sioux.”
They followed the trail for the rest of the afternoon. Rand struggled to pray, but despair kept rearing its head.
One of the Sioux warriors gave Sarah jerky and fresh water before jabbering and pulling her to her feet. In spite of her terror, she was grateful for the food. She’d never been so hungry in her life. The jerky was tough, but she didn’t know when anything had tasted so good.
She turned and looked back at the way they’d come. If Rand lived, he would find her. She was sure of it.
The young warrior with the scar on his face pulled her up behind him on his pony, and she wrinkled her nose at the stench of sweat and bear grease. The Sioux band picked its way along a faint trail through the forest. Sarah would never have recognized it was a trail, but once they had followed it for a while, she was able to see the slight impression from other Indian ponies. Twilight was sending out long, golden shadows by the time they turned the crest of a hill. Campfires and teepee shapes became visible below them in the valley beside a stream.
Children jabbered and women stared at her with hostile eyes as the warriors paraded through the camp, raising their bows and spears in triumphant shrieks. Sarah fought unconsciousness as she tried not to droop wearily against the young warrior’s back. Her vision blurred and doubled as he stopped beside a teepee and slid to the ground.
He pulled her down, and she fought his grip on her arms. “Let go of me.”
He grunted, then thrust her inside the teepee and closed the flap, encasing her in darkness. She was too weary to do more than stumble to a soft pile of furs and sink into instant sleep.
When Sarah awoke she was in a dark, cool place. Strange chanting filled her head, and she heard the rumbles of unfamiliar voices. But the words were all jumbled together, and nothing made any sense. She tried to rise and was surprised to find she could move her hands and feet. She had thought the Indians would tie her up so she couldn’t escape in the night. The sounds outside were distant and not threatening, so she snuggled back down in the furs and fell asleep again.
The next time she awoke, she was not alone. A beautiful Indian girl knelt beside her and offered her a bowl of stew that smelled wonderful. She took it and ate eagerly. It was flavored with unfamiliar herbs, but the meat and vegetables were tasty. The young woman smiled, then quickly stepped outside and closed the flap on the teepee behind her.
Sarah’s shoulder protested as she got to her feet. Swaying weakly, she started toward the flap, then staggered and sank back to the ground. She was just too tired to push herself any longer. She returned to the bearskin rug and stared at the opening to the teepee. What if Rand was really dead like Ben said? She pushed the thought away. He couldn’t be dead. And he would find her.
She looked around curiously. She’d always wondered what a teepee looked like inside, but she’d never been in one. Not even Morning Song’s.
The teepee was large, at least ten feet in diameter. In the center was a tripod arrangement that supported a pot over what were now cold ashes, although a pile of buffalo chips lay heaped to the side. Spears and knives hung from the lodge poles, and buffalo robes were piled to one side. Pelts of various animals—dove, wolverine, raccoon, and antelope—were in various stages of tanning on a rack of some kind.
She dragged her gaze away from the lodge furnishings as the flap opened and the Indian warrior came in. A fierce scowl creased his young face, and Sarah’s heart pounded in trepidation. It was the youth with the terrible scar on his cheek she’d seen before.
“He–hello,” she stammered. Then she smiled as she remembered the Sioux greeting Isaac had taught her. “Wash ta cola.”
He merely grunted, his black eyes roaming over Sarah’s tangled hair. He reached out and touched a bright red-gold lock.
She forced herself not to flinch. “Sarah.” She gestured at herself. “My name is Sarah.”
The warrior nodded, a smile winking across his face so quickly Sarah thought she’d imagined it.
The flap lifted again as the young Sioux maiden entered. She reminded Sarah of a young antelope, all long limbs yet curiously graceful. Sarah’s heart clenched as she thought of Morning Song.
“You awake,” she said, her dark eyes liquid with a hidden smile.
“You speak English.” Sarah smiled in relief.
“Little. Little English. Live at mission one year.” The girl squatted and offered her another bowl of stew. “You eat.”
Sarah wasn’t really hungry any longer, but since she intended to escape at the first opportunity, she needed to build up her strength as quickly as possible.
The boy grunted again and said something to the girl. “Little Wolverine say you belong to blue coat with eyes like eagle. Soldier not kill Little Wolverine in battle. Why?”
A Journey of the Heart Collection Page 15
