Sarah searched her memory, but she couldn’t remember Rand mentioning an incident like he described. “I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly.
The girl translated to the young man and he fired a volley of words back at her. “He say blue coat with eagle eyes spare Little Wolverine. Little Wolverine save you.” She pretended to weigh her hands until they were on an equal level.
“Yes. Even. Thank you.” Sarah looked into the dark eyes beside her and thanked God for sending such an unlikely rescuer. They weren’t going to hurt her.
SEVEN
Sarah’s strength grew daily on the good food White Dove brought. She gave Sarah a beautifully beaded Indian dress to replace her torn dress and braided her hair.
Sarah and the young maiden grew to be friends—she felt an almost uncanny sense of friendship and identification with her, as if she’d known her all her life—and by the third day Sarah felt at home in the busy Sioux camp. The children were curious about her and soon lost their shyness when she appeared. White Dove was happy to translate their innumerable questions.
But Sarah grew more anxious daily. Where was Rand? Was there any truth to what Ben told her? Could Rand really be dead—or did he think she was dead? And Joel would be frantic. What would become of her little brother if Sarah never returned? She couldn’t bear to think of him with Wade. Maybe Amelia and Jacob would raise him.
“Why you so sad?” White Dove asked as they fished in the stream just after dawn on the fourth day.
Sarah clambered out of the water and sat on a large rock, White Dove following close behind her. “I miss my friends and my little brother. You know the word brother?”
White Dove nodded. “I have small brother.” She held out her hand to her waist.
“And I worry about the bad man who tried to hurt me. He may be looking for me still.”
White Dove nodded slowly, her dark eyes compassionate. “Little Wolverine take you back soon. Then debt to blue coat is paid. And Little Wolverine say Sarah cry no more. He know man who hurt Sarah. He make sure he not hurt Sarah again.” She reached over and touched Sarah’s arm shyly. “White Dove miss Sarah.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she said hoarsely. “Thank Little Wolverine for me. You are both good friends.”
Just a few days with the Sioux had shown her how alike they all were. Little Wolverine and the other Indians had no idea how many settlers were clamoring to take away the Indian hunting grounds. And Rand might actually have to fight Little Wolverine some day. She couldn’t stand the thought of the bright young warrior lying dead on a field of battle.
She picked up her string of fish and followed White Dove back to camp. Why was life never simple?
Rand and his companions followed the trail as it led through rocky hills and sagebrush-choked gullies. When they ran low on rations, Rand and Isaac brought down an antelope and cut it into strips for jerky, smoking it overnight over a low fire. Rand alternated between worry for Sarah and concern for Jacob back at the cabin.
Four days from the fort, they awoke to a leaden sky with a stiff, moisture-laden breeze whipping across the stark landscape. If it rained, the trail would be washed away. And they were so close. They hurriedly saddled up and rode out.
But their haste was useless. The storm struck with its usual force in the mountains. Hail rained down on them, and they were forced to take shelter under an overhang in the gully. Thunder boomed around them as torrents of rain fell and lightning crackled overhead.
“We’ve got to git to high ground!” Rooster shouted above the crashing thunder. “This here’s a real gully washer. There’s liable to be a flash flood any time.”
Staying as close to the rock wall as possible, they led their horses up the rocky hill. Halfway up the side of the slope, Rand looked down. A mountain of water swept away the tangle of sagebrush and aspen where they’d been only minutes before.
“This here’s prob’ly high enough.” Rooster paused under an overhang.
They crouched there, hugging the cold side of the rocky wall. The horses shifted restlessly, but the men managed to hang on to the reins. Finally the downpour was over. Steamy mist shimmered in the heat as the sun broke through the clouds, and they emerged from their sanctuary.
Rand gaped at the changed landscape. The flash flood had carved new gullies and filled in old low spots as the raging water carried away everything in its path. He stood surveying the damage as dismay swept over him. The trail to Sarah would never have survived such rain.
“Don’t take on so, boy. We ain’t done by a long shot.”
“What do you mean, Rooster? How will we ever find her now?”
“I’ve scouted these parts before. Over yonder peak is one of the Injuns’ favorite camping grounds. We’ll just mosey on over there, and maybe we’ll find our little gal.”
Galvanized, Rand leaped astride his horse as Rooster led the way and Isaac brought up the rear. By nightfall they were in a line of trees overlooking an Indian campground. The teepees glowed with color from the sunset. They caught glimpses of dimly illuminated figures moving around the campfires.
“Now what?” Rand asked.
“Now we stay put till they’re sleepin’.” The old Indian fighter took off his hat and smoothed his red hair. “Then we sneak in and look around for our Miss Sarah.”
They tied their horses to a tree and hunkered down to wait. Rand kept watch while the other two tried to catch a little sleep. He was just about to wake Isaac for his turn at watch when he noticed a movement just below their lookout. He cocked his rifle and the other two were awake in an instant.
“What is it?” Isaac whispered.
“Don’t know. Thought I saw something.” Rand searched the spot again, but he froze when he heard a sound on the slope above them. He swiveled his head and faced a row of fiercely painted Indians holding spears, all pointed at him and his friends.
They were obviously outnumbered, so when one of the Indians motioned for them to drop their guns, they obeyed. The Sioux bound their hands with brutal efficiency, then marched them down the slope to the camp. They thrust them roughly into a large teepee and fastened the flap firmly behind them.
Rand could see the outline of a guard through the buckskin. Some rescuers they were. Now they were all in the same uncomfortable spot with Sarah, if she was even here.
Rand squatted on a buffalo robe. “Why didn’t they kill us outright?”
“They’re probably saving us for some special ceremony,” Isaac said, sitting down on a buffalo robe. “We’d best get some sleep. They’ll be on their guard tonight, but maybe tomorrow we can find a way to escape.”
Rand sat up just before dawn, too keyed up to lay down any longer. He listened to the sounds of the camp beginning to stir around him. He understood none of the guttural language outside as women lit fires and called to one another.
Diffused light gradually lifted the darkness inside their teepee as the bustle outside increased. Finally the flap lifted, and a young man stepped through, followed by an Indian girl. Rand immediately recognized him as the warrior he had spared in the battle the week before. And he was the one whose face he’d seen in his delirium.
Rooster recognized the boy too. “I told you you’d be sorry.”
But Rand felt no fear as he looked into the youth’s calm, dark eyes.
The girl stepped forward and smiled at him. “Do not fear. Little Wolverine your friend. But he ask, ‘Why you not shoot him?’ ”
Rand hesitated. His reasons would probably sound silly, but there was no help for it. “Little Wolverine reminded me of my younger brother. You know the word brother?”
The girl nodded. “
One who shares mother and father?”
Rand nodded. “I have a younger brother about the same age as Little Wolverine. I saw that same brave spirit in Little Wolverine.”
The girl smiled as she translated. The youth’s black eyes never left Rand’s face as she explained. Then he nodded and barked an order to the girl. She gave Rand a slight smile, then slipped out of the teepee. Moments later Sarah stepped through the flap behind the Indian girl.
“Sarah!”
Her green eyes widened and she gasped as Rand started toward her. “Rand?” She ran into his open arms.
Sarah burrowed her face in the rough fabric of Rand’s shirt. His strong arms encased her, and she never wanted to leave this embrace she’d thought she’d never feel again. “How did you find me?”
“Rooster.” He touched the bruise on her cheek, then frowned when she flinched. “Who did this to you? And how’d you get away from the renegades who had you?”
Just past him, she saw Isaac staring at the two of them. What was he thinking? She pushed away from Rand. “I–I came to a cabin.” He wouldn’t understand. Last time Ben had tried to force her to marry him, Rand jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Later,” she whispered. She turned to the two Sioux standing silent behind her. “I would have died if it weren’t for my friends. I’d like you to meet Little Wolverine and White Dove.”
Rand held out his hand to the two Sioux. “I don’t know what to say—how to thank you.”
The girl smiled. “Sarah is friend. We miss her. You leave in morning for soldier fort but first we have feast.”
Rooster and Isaac crowded close and hugged Sarah. Isaac’s hug was brief, and he quickly stepped back. She hated to see the hurt in his eyes. “Thanks for saving me.”
“I’m glad you’re all right.” He moved to the side of the teepee and folded muscular arms over his chest.
Rooster grabbed her in a bear hug. “No how were we going home without you.”
She hugged him back, unashamed of the tears of joy that trickled down her cheeks. “Thank you, Rooster. They couldn’t have found me without you.”
She wanted to get Rand alone, to find out what Ben had tried to do to him. And how did she tell him about Jessica’s role in her capture? Was it even true?
White Dove motioned to Rand. “Your wound. I will heal.”
He sat down and let her smear an ointment on his wound. The stench made Sarah wrinkle her nose, but Rand endured the young woman’s ministrations.
Sarah glanced at Isaac, who continued to stare at her as if he was trying to puzzle out something. This ordeal had shown her how deep her feelings for Rand still ran. How could she marry someone else when she knew she’d never get over Rand?
She joined Isaac by the teepee opening. “You have questions. I can see them in your eyes.”
“I think the answers are clear. I’d hoped you’d find me a suitable substitute for Rand, but I can see that is never going to happen.”
She looked down at the dirt floor. “I don’t think so either. I like you, Isaac, so much. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Better to find out now. I think he knows his own heart now too.”
Her pulse throbbed in her neck, but an ache settled over her heart. “I wish that were true, but even if he realized he still loves me, he’s a man of honor. He won’t go back on his word to Jessica.”
Reeking of something that smelled like rotting flesh, Rand joined them. “Sounds like a lot of commotion outside.”
Sarah heard it then, the noise of horses and voices. She motioned to White Dove and Little Wolverine. “What’s going on?”
The two Sioux walked nearer. White Dove glanced at Sarah, then back to Rand. “We go to make war with Red Cloud at Powder River.”
Rand shook his head and looked hard at the young warrior. “Don’t go, Little Wolverine. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Tell him not to go,” he appealed to White Dove.
The boy drew himself up straight and taut as White Dove translated. “He say, ‘Should Little Wolverine stay in camp like dog and let others fight for his family? Soon people have no hunting grounds. Whites take all. Red Cloud say Indians must fight or be forced to farm.’ ”
The boy spat in the dust. “He say, ‘Lakota not dirt diggers.’ ” Little Wolverine’s face softened as he spoke again and White Dove continued to translate. “But he say, ‘Rand and Little Wolverine brothers. They not fight.’ ”
“No, my brother.” Rand laid a hand on Little Wolverine’s shoulder. “We’ll not fight. And someday I hope we meet again.”
The boy clasped his hand over Rand’s large, square hand as though he understood his words before White Dove translated them. His dark eyes were warm with friendship.
Sarah’s heart squeezed at the thought of the hardships coming to her new friends. There was nothing she could do either. Nothing any of them could do. The fight for western lands would not be over anytime soon.
EIGHT
Amelia watched the hills surrounding the fort every day, anxious for word of Sarah. The main detachment had returned, hauling Jacob home two days ago, but no one had heard a word from the three who pushed on after Sarah. Her husband paced their small quarters as he waited for word of his brother. When she’d first seen his wound, she’d shuddered, but Jacob was recovering much better than she’d feared.
After breakfast on the third day of Jacob’s return, Amelia sat on the porch, watching as the cavalry prepared for maneuvers. Joel sat listlessly beside her, and she put her hand on his arm. “Hang on to your hope, Joel. Maybe Jacob will have news when he gets back.”
Tears hung on his lashes. “He has to find her. He has to!”
She touched his cheek. “He will.”
“Boots and saddles.” Captain Brown shouted the familiar command to mount, and the cavalry swung up onto their horses and rode out of the fort.
Jacob limped across the parade ground to join her and Joel. “The commander says there is still no word. They haven’t shown up at Fort Caspar or the Platte River Bridge Station.”
Amelia burst into tears and jumped up to bury her face against Jacob’s chest. “I have a terrible feeling she’s dead. And we’ll never know for sure.”
Jacob held her close, and she tried to take comfort from his strength. She had a dreadful feeling she’d never see any of them again.
Joel stood suddenly and pointed west. “What’s that?” Jacob turned and looked, then grew still, his gaze scanning the slope to the west of the fort. He pulled Amelia away. “Wait here.”
“What is it?”
She shaded her eyes with her hand and saw four riders coming down the rocky incline toward the fort. And one of them, dressed in buckskin like an Indian maiden, had sunny red-gold hair. With a sob of relief, she picked up her skirts and ran after Jacob.
“They’ve got her!” a sentry to the west of the fort shouted as soldiers ran from the mess hall and barracks to greet their beloved Sarah. Amelia wasn’t the only one who had just about given up hope.
Soldiers lined the road and cheered as the four travelers, tired and dusty, rode into the fort.
“Sarah!”
With a sob of joy, Sarah slipped off her mare and fell into Amelia’s arms. Laughing and crying, she hugged Amelia, then Joel as soldiers cheered and whistled and slapped each other on the backs. Even the post commander was out to greet them.
Amelia looked up at Rand. “I knew you’d find her.”
He grinned down at her. “Always. I’ll never let her go.”
Amelia caught her breath. Did he mean what she thought he meant?
Joel clung to Sarah as
they walked home. Home. She’d never thought to see this modest house again. Rand laughed as he tried to tell their story. But the true story still had to be told.
Amelia sent Joel out with the men, then heated a kettle of water and poured it into a hip bath as Sarah peeled off the dusty, stained buckskin dress. She poured cold water into the bath and tested to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then as Sarah eased in with a sigh, Amelia began to comb the tangles out of her friend’s red-gold locks.
A half hour later, hair washed and clad in clean clothes, Sarah curled up on the sofa while Amelia stood over her, plaiting Sarah’s hair into a long braid. “You have so many bruises. But of course the Indians are notorious for their brutality.”
Her friend’s sympathetic touch and voice broke the dam on Sarah’s emotions, and she burst into tears. She had to tell someone—she couldn’t hold it inside any longer. “It wasn’t the Indians, Amelia—they helped me. It was Ben.”
Amelia’s fingers in Sarah’s hair stilled. “Ben Croftner? He beat you?” Her voice was incredulous, and she curled her hands into fists.
Sarah nodded. In a flood, the horror of her ordeal gushed out. Amelia sat and held her as she choked out the truth.
“Did you tell Rand?” White with shock and disbelief, Amelia pushed the hair out of Sarah’s face, then held her close again.
“No. But I know I have to.” Sarah pulled back and laced her hands together. “I–I just couldn’t face it. He’ll hate me, I know it. You know how jealous he is of Ben.” She shuddered. “What if he thinks I encouraged him? What if he doesn’t believe me when I tell him I got away before Ben could—?”
The words hung in the air. Amelia placed her hand over Sarah’s hands. “Oh, Sarah, he’ll believe you. He’s learned to trust again these last few months. And I’m sure he doesn’t blame you anymore. It wasn’t your fault.”
The front door banged open, and they both turned as Rand, Joel, and Jacob strode into the room.
A Journey of the Heart Collection Page 16
