Whispering Sun

by Rita Karnopp

  René stood, legs spread, above her, laughing. His lusting gaze traveled the length of exposed bare legs.

  "Does Mademoiselle want René that much? I'm sure Melody won't mind sharing the great René!"

  Certain she hadn't understood all his words, she still found herself shocked at what she had deciphered. Her stomach churned. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, maneuvering the layers of silk to cover her nakedness. Glancing at Melody, Sarah found her huddled into a frightened ball, unable or unwilling to move.

  Sarah's breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded. She looked around the ground for a weapon…any weapon. She flung her hands out in despair, her right hand landing on a palm-sized rock.

  "Stay away from me." Slow and deliberate, Sarah spat the words out at him. She watched him step closer, his eyes narrowed.

  "You're the wild she-cat I heard so much about. What a pretty little thing, too. René could find looking at the likes of you very pleasing. If you do not fight me, little she-cat, you will find being with René is quite pleasurin'."

  He dropped to his knees, in front of Sarah. She tensed as he lowered himself across her. She waited for the right time to strike her blow. Then, in a lightning-fast motion, Sarah rammed the rock into his temple. She felt, rather than saw, his shocked movement backward. She released a rush of air.

  She searched his expression and found anger had replaced lust. He grabbed a handful of hair, pulling her to her feet.

  Sarah pushed against his chest, and then spit at him. "You're the lowest man I've ever met," she said, swallowing hard.

  She watched his dark eyes narrow to slits, his nostrils flared with fury. He struck out, landing a stinging blow across her cheek. Startled, she covered the burning flesh with her palm.

  She struggled against a choking, swirling darkness…sinking…sinking…into a black pond.

  * * *

  Sarah struggled to wake. Her head throbbed, the pressure inside her skull made thinking difficult. The cool cloth pressed to her brow offered little comfort. She opened her eyes slowly, but even that movement made her want to scream in pain.

  As her vision focused, a woman leaning over her came into view.

  "Where am I?" Sarah asked with difficulty.

  The woman reached over and placed a fresh cloth across her forehead. Sarah couldn't help staring at the henna color of the woman's hair.

  "Don't be afraid. We'll help and protect you from those animals."

  Sarah studied the woman's lips struggling to understand the woman's words. "What animals? Where am I? How did I get here? Who are you?"

  She watched the woman laugh. Sarah swallowed hard. Trail Walker had told her she'd sounded fine. Would he have lied? Why else would this woman laugh? Feelings of hurt and embarrassment rushed through her. Now wasn't the time to sulk.

  Melody? Sarah looked around, searching for any sign of her friend. Fearful images grew in her mind and she shook. "Where is Melody?" she asked, trying to rise from the bed.

  The woman pressed her back into the pillows. "There now, you're getting hysterical again. Stay calm. You'll feel better in no time."

  The pain intensified, Sarah pressed her palm against her temple. "Is Melody… dead?"

  "Land sakes, no. The young girl is fine. Maybe a bit heartbroken and a smite disillusioned, but she'll come out of it."

  No and heartbroken were enough for Sarah. She closed her eyes, relieved. It first occurred to her that the bed she lay on couldn't be more than a mere cot...in a covered wagon.

  Struggling for consciousness, Sarah opened her eyes. "Where am I?" she asked, watching the woman's lips with intensity.

  "You're in a wagon. René brought you here, just like he did us all. We believed we were going away with him to some wonderful, happy life, only to find out we're his prisoners. René and his men plan to drive this wagon and two others like it, filled with women just like us, west. They'll sell us off to any man or whorehouse they care to, for a good price."

  The woman spoke fast. Sarah struggled to grasp the meaning of her words. Lord, she and Melody had made a grave mistake in trusting René. Sarah's mind spun in bewilderment.

  "Melody said René was trying to save me from being killed. She and René loved each other and were going to get married." As Sarah spoke the words…in her mind they echoed back to her…how foolish they'd been. Images of René attacking Melody came to mind. Sarah watched the woman's expressions grow hard.

  "You listen to Delia. René loves no one but René. He's the worst kind of man there is. He steals a young woman's heart and uses her. Then he sells her off to the highest bidder."

  How could things have gone this wrong? Sarah allowed her lids to close, hoping to block out the pain in her head. Through her confused and painful thoughts, she found herself focusing on someone other than René…Giles Rutledge. In her heart she knew he had to be involved. What will I do now? Sarah asked herself before slipping into darkness.

  The bouncing and jolting of the wagon caused Sarah to wake. The familiar smile from Delia brought the realization it hadn't all been a horrible dream.

  Studying her painted face, Sarah realized she'd never been close up to a woman who wore color on her eyes and cheeks before. Decent women said they were bad. Somehow, Sarah had a feeling that Delia wasn't all that bad. In a way, her painted face added to her beauty.

  The pain eased some. Sarah found herself responding to the harsh realities of her situation. Would René really sell her to a trapper or to one of those soiled dove houses? Lord, what would she do if he did? A shiver ran the length of her spine just thinking about it. Someone shook her shoulder and Sarah shot a glance upward. Delia stared down at her.

  "I asked you if you were cold. Didn't you hear me?"

  "I was thinking. I wasn't watching your face and didn't realize you were speaking."

  "What are you talking about, child?"

  Taking a deep breath, Sarah searched for the words of the same old story. "I can't hear. I read lips."

  "Land sakes! No wonder you sound…never mind. Why didn't you tell me right off?"

  "I never thought about it. I'm used to it." Sarah watched Delia nod. The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth.

  "I believe I like you, Sarah, girl. How is your head feeling?"

  "I think it`s better. How long have I been in this wagon?" Sarah asked, looking around the cluttered and confined area.

  "Three days now."

  "What? That can't be! Has there been an old Indian man looking for me?" Watching Delia shake her head, Sarah fought the sensation of intense desolation that swept over her.

  "No, dearie. Even if some Indian did come looking for you, René or one of his men would have killed him where he stood. We'd have heard about it, so it's safe to say he hasn't come."

  The harsh realities of loneliness stabbed at her. "How is Melody? She said René planned to marry her."

  "He's a sly one, that he is. René won't be marrying no one, that includes your little friend, Melody. She'll start coming to terms soon, I expect. At least she's stopped crying all the time. That's a good sign. You want to talk to her?"

  Staring at Delia's lips, Sarah fought the pressure building against the back of her skull. "I'd love to see her." She rose to her elbow, and then overcome by a wave of dizziness, dropped back onto the pillows. She watched Delia leave the end of the wagon, and watched Melody appear.

  "Sarah! Oh, Sarah! I thought for sure you'd die." Tears rolled down her cheeks. She ran over to the bed and threw herself across Sarah, hugging her.

  The warm gesture surprised Sarah. For years she'd dreamed of such friendship. This wasn't how she would have hoped to obtain it. "Are you all right?"

  Melody sat on the edge of the cot and buried her face in her hands.

  Sarah watched a tear slid between Melody's fingers and roll down her arm. Reaching out, Sarah placed her hand on Melody's elbow, then squeezed.

  Tears spent, Melody sat up, rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, and then wip
ed her cheeks with the palms of her hands. "I'm sorry, Sarah. It's all my fault. I almost got you killed. I didn't know René… " She paused to wipe at the streaming tears with her fingertips. "I told myself I wasn't going to cry anymore. Sometimes I just can't help it."

  "I understand, Melody. Believe me, I do."

  "When I met René I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. He came into Paw's store and talked with my father, hand-wrestled and everything. My mother liked him too. When he asked if he could take me to the dance that night, well, I can't tell you how happy I was. I was afraid my father wouldn't let me go with him, and at first he wouldn't. But René somehow convinced him to say yes." She looked away.

  Sarah didn't miss the misery contained in Melody's eyes. "I think René had everyone fooled, Melody. Don't be hard on yourself. I believed him, too."

  "I feel so ashamed. I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him. I know it sounds unbelievable in such a short time. But my mother fell in love with my father and married him only after one week. I had myself convinced that's how it was with René and me."

  Sarah didn't have to hear Melody's tone to know the heartbreak, anguish, and emotions she felt. "I noticed you both at the dance. He acted like you were the only woman in the world."

  "I should have made him wait to…I shouldn't have… I should have waited until he married me. I'd never been with a man before and he was so…you know, I couldn't help myself. No man will ever want me now!"

  Sarah reached up and moved a curly brown lock from Melody's full, round face. Her languishing features made her look more like twelve than sixteen. "Melody, listen to me. You should tell no one what you just told me. He tricked you. No one has to know."

  The wagon bounced into the air, jarring down with force. Sarah gritted her teeth against the pained it caused.

  "Are you hurt, Sarah. You didn't hit your head again, did you?"

  Studying Melody's words, Sarah wondered if she'd understood correctly. "What do you mean? Hit my head again?"

  "When you came to help me…when René' tried to force me to…I wanted to wait until we married before doing it again. He got angry and slapped me. I'd never been so afraid." Melody stopped and looked down at her hands. "I closed my eyes. I pinched them hard and never wanted to open them―"

  Sarah reached over and gently squeezed Melody's shoulder. "I can't see you talk when you don't look at me," Sarah said, embarrassed to have interrupted her. Sarah looked into Melody's tear-brimmed eyes.

  "I closed my eyes and screamed and screamed. I wanted to help you, like you tried to help me, but I was too afraid. When I realized I'd stopped screaming, I looked up and saw René was carrying you to the wagon. I rushed over and asked him what happened to you. He said you'd been frightened by a rattlesnake and fainted, hitting your head on a rock."

  Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He told you that? René was the only rattlesnake that struck me!"

  "You mean René hit you? But you were unconscious for a long time. He seemed so worried. Every day he's checked with us to see how you're doing. That's why someone is allowed to ride in the wagon, to make sure you're doing well. Everyone else has to walk."

  "I doubt if he's worried about me. He's probably worried about losing a sale. If we've been traveling three days, I'm sure the cavalry should be here within a day or two."

  "The cavalry? You're wrong, Sarah. Giles is going to lead the troops north. We're traveling south." A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Sarah tensed at the mention of Giles. She'd been right, Giles was involved, just as she'd suspected. "What does Giles have to do with René? Sarah asked, shifting uncomfortably.

  "I tried to tell you that night, your father ordered Giles to kill you. That's what René told me. I was with René when he met with Giles Rutledge. I recognized him, even though he stayed in the shadows. Giles was angry that I was with René, but when he realized I was going to help, he seemed relieved."

  "That tobacco cud! He made sure Trail Walker was away, and then set up this great plan to get rid of me. I should have guessed it from the beginning. I don't believe for a minute that my father ordered him to kill me. My father may not love me, but I don't think he hates me that much. Giles wanted me out of Fort Bryson. A sure way to keep all his secrets."

  "What are you talking about, Sarah?"

  "I saw Giles go into my father's study and look at the rifle shipment delivery logs. I don't know how he found out…unless he saw me somehow." Sarah pressed her palm into her forehead and leaned further into the pillows.

  "You're not making sense, Sarah. Blackfeet killed those men who were guarding the rifle shipments. My father has several arrows to prove it."

  "Trail Walker said he thinks white men, dressed like Blackfeet, are attacking the rifle shipments. He believes there's a traitor in the fort…Giles Rutledge."

  "Boy, I never would have guessed it. Giles is such a nice man. You and he are going to get married, aren't you?"

  "I despise him!"

  "He's so handsome. I always envied you having such a fine beau."

  "Don't you see? He used me to get access to my father's papers?" Sarah swallowed the hurt.

  "You mean he wasn't going to marry you?"

  Sarah looked away for a brief moment, then met Melody's curious gaze. "Yes. He planned to marry me because I'm the General's daughter, not because he loved me. I was a way to further his rank and acceptance."

  "I thought he was such a fine man. Maybe there isn't such a thing as a nice man. I thought René was such a wonderful man, too. I trusted him. Look where it got me!"

  "Don't be so hard on yourself. I trusted him too."

  "No, Sarah. You didn't trust him, you believed me. I got you into this. I just wish I could get you out. You could have gotten killed."

  "Well, I'm not dead. Stop blaming yourself. We'll be fine. Trail Walker will come after us, you'll see."

  The wagon stopped, halting their conversation. Building pressure caused Sarah to close her eyes for relief. She pressed her hand into her skull, the pain continued.

  Under lowered lids, Sarah watched a woman stick her face into the back-end of the wagon. The canvas flap caused her straw hat to fly off her blonde, wavy hair. "Little Miss Daisy finally 'wake? 'Bout time. Gettin' kinda sick watchin' her ride whiles we all has ta walk. Don't look like nothin' special to me 'bout her."

  Sarah moved her gaze to Melody's flushed-red face.

  "Hush, Judie Bailey. It isn't Sarah's fault she's hurt. It's not her fault she has to ride, either. You're just being unfair again." Melody spoke more to Sarah, than to Judie.

  "What ya lookin' at her fer when you're talkin' to me?"

  "Sarah is deaf, Judie. She can read lips. I thought it only polite to let her know what we're saying about her."

  Sarah quickly glanced at Judie. It felt awkward and uneasy to be the subject of their heated discussion. Judie showed obvious dislike, Sarah couldn't help wondering why.

  "Polite. You want polite? The little tramp is no different than us. She gets all the attention as though she was some sort of princess or somethin'. I could drop dread walkin' out in that heat every day, lover man, René, wouldn't give a shit. But every night I hear him askin' Delia about Mademoiselle Sarah. Ain't nobody askin' how I is."

  "I'm sorry, Judie. How is your leg today? I still can't believe you didn't die from that rattlesnake bite."

  Judie slammed her palm on the animal feed box. "Oh, don't go gettin' mushy now. Ain't nothin' gonna kill off Judie, that's includin' our mutual lover over there." Judie pointed at René as he rode past their wagon.

  Sarah pressed further into her bed at the site of him.

  "Judie, I wish you'd stop calling him that. Why'd we stop? Is it time for lunch?" Melody asked, obviously changing the sensitive subject.

  "Guess so. I'm suppose to tells you, if Miss Sarah there is feelin' better she's to come out and get some air. Course the poor thing might needs a strong man to carry her outta this wagon, into that peaceful meado
w yonder, under a tree so's she don't burn that delicate skin of hers. Doubt if I can find ya a gentleman though. Ain't none here, that's for sure."

  Sarah found it hard to read Judie's lips. She hadn't seen such broken English before and it proved difficult to distinguish.

  "Thank you for letting us know, Judie," Melody said, turning her full attention to Sarah. "Do you think you'd like to go outside for a while?"

  "I'd love to." Sarah inched her hand from her forehead, hoping the throbbing would subside long enough for her to enjoy some fresh air.

  Taking it slow, with Melody's help, Sarah made her way out of the wagon. She found it annoying that her legs felt wobbly and already she felt tired from the effort. Melody guided Sarah to a grassy patch under an old cottonwood tree, helping her to sit and lean her back against the rough bark.

  "You sit here while I help make lunch. Then we'll all come join you. Think you'll be all right by yourself?"

  Melody's eyes betrayed concern and warmth. So, this was friendship. "Yes, I'll be fine. It feels good to be out of that torturous wagon."

  Sarah watched Melody hurry to join the other women. Each seemed to know just what they had to do. She recognized Delia immediately, her scarlet hair flying in the wind. A black and white cow had been tied to the back of their wagon. She noticed how comfortable Delia looked milking the animal.

  Sarah drank in the warm sun, letting it soak into her skin, then soul.

  Staring across the small pond before her, Sarah wondered if the sound of crickets filled the air. She glimpsed a fish jump in the water, and then tried to imagine what a splash sounded like. A duck flapped its wings and flew away. Sarah heard only silence.

  Moving her gaze back to the women, Sarah watched a busty, rather shapely Mexican girl with shiny black hair. Her young, robust cheeks suggested youth. Sarah guessed the gal could be no more than fourteen. Her black eyes seemed to be watching everything. Her quick, jerky actions, as she hacked at the prairie dog meat, made Sarah nervous.

  A tall, skinny woman rounded the wagon, and then stopped near Melody. She'd pulled her light brown hair back in a tight bun. Sarah decided her eyes were large and brown like those of a frightened deer. Observing the dark dress, wide, white collar, and large black cross, Sarah decided the girl had to be a minister's daughter.