by Rita Karnopp
Finally, Sarah observed the activities beyond their immediate camp. She could see two other wagons ahead of theirs. The women were busy preparing lunch, much like they were. Several men rode around the area, rifles or whips in hand, watching. Sarah suddenly realized how serious a predicament they were in. As she looked from woman to woman, Sarah read fear, tension, anxiety, heartbreak, and plain desolation. What had they gone through while she'd slept in the wagon?
Feeling the pressure of a hand on her shoulder, Sarah jumped. She jerked her gazed upward, momentarily blinded by the sun. Her vision cleared…René stood before her.
"You! Get away from me!" Sarah ordered.
"How can you talk this way to René? If it hadn't been for me, Mademoiselle would be lunch for some hungry wolves by now. Surely you can see this?"
Sarah openly stared at him. She saw a weasel in an expensive suit and lacy shirt. "Don't come near me, René. How can you do this to these women? How could you have hurt Melody? You told her you loved her and wanted to marry her. Is that what you told all of them?"
"I still can't get over how well you read lips. If I didn't know, I'd never guess you were deaf."
Sarah glared at him. "Don't change the subject."
René sat on the grass, across from Sarah. "It is not all that it seems, my sweet. I have taken many of these women from very unhappy places. They hated their lives and wanted more. René has given them more. I will find them fine husbands along the way to California. They will be happy, and René will be happy too. But you, Mademoiselle, I have decided to keep for René."
Caught off guard by his sudden announcement, a gasp escaped her lips. "Why me? Why not Melody, who loves you, or any of their other women for that matter?"
"Because you, Mademoiselle, are of pure stock. You will make the perfect wife for René. I am a rich man, Sarah. With your beauty and fine upbringing, plus my fine family name…such wonderful children we will have. Besides, I like your spirit." René grinned, reaching over to rub his finger across her cheek.
Flinching, she slapped him across his face with her palm. The effort caused her head to reel with pain. "Don't you ever touch me again!" She pressed her back against the tree, hoping her tone had been laced with the disgust she felt.
René grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her face close to his. "You, Mademoiselle, will have to get use to ze idea because it is your future. I will not allow you to slap me ever again. If you do, I will slap you back, and you know I can, and will!" He pushed her roughly from him, then rose and stormed away.
Sarah glanced toward the women, and realized they'd all stopped working and were watching her. Sarah glanced at Delia and noticed she'd started clapping her hands together. Within seconds she realized all the women were clapping. Sarah's gaze locked with Judie. For a moment Sarah thought she read approval, before Judy turned and walked away.
One of the overseers cracked a whip, sending the women scurrying back to their chores. Sarah closed her eyes, feeling utterly miserable.
Why hadn't Tail Walker found them yet? They had been traveling for three days, which meant Trail Walker would be getting back to the Fort with the troops. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier? He'd come. Sarah took a deep breath. He'd come…she knew it.
Heat rushed through her. Sarah thought she'd vomit. The pressure on the back of her skull brought renewed stabs of pain. Her head throbbed as though it breathed on its own. Disquieting thoughts of Giles caused the wretched symptoms to worsen.
Maybe she and Melody could escape? Could they make it back to the fort, just the two of them? What would René and his men do to them if they were caught? She couldn't think about it now. Later she'd give it more thought. Maybe they wouldn't have to escape, Trail Walker would come and destroy René and his men.
One thing Sarah decided without much thought…she'd rather be sold off to a stranger, than marry the likes of René. She'd no sooner marry René than she would Giles Rutledge. At least with a stranger, she had a chance of him turning out kind.
Giles had done this to her. If it took her last breath, she'd see to it that Giles paid for what he's done. He'd pay for the deaths of all those innocent cavalrymen. He'd pay for the grief and unrest it caused the Blackfeet. And he'd pay for the hell he had put her through. Giles Rutledge would pay…even if it killed her.
* * *
Hot sun beat down on her. Sarah rubbed her drenched dress between her breasts, hoping to stop the irritating flow of perspiration. Each passing day made her future look more vague and shadowy. A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed Sarah each time she wondered why Trail Walker hadn't come for her. She'd come to a hard-to-face, almost too impossible-to-imagine, conclusion. In her heart the fear of her thoughts tore at her. She didn't want to face her greatest fear…Giles had done something to Trail Walker to keep him from following her. Nothing else would have kept him away this long.
Sarah shuddered in the heat, knowing her conclusion proved more possible with each passing day. Three days had passed sleeping in the wagon and another four were spent regaining her strength. Now for five days she'd been walking alongside the wagon. It'd been twelve days since they'd left the fort.
A rock kicked Sarah's leg, causing her to falter. Delia had shortened all their dresses to several inches above their ankles to make walking easier. It didn't take long to get use to. They'd also sown lead shot into their skirt hems, to keep their dresses from flying in the wind.
The blistering sun beat down on them, hour after hour. The endless biting of the green and grey flies, plus the occasional burn of the buffalo gnats made them miserable beyond words. Night didn't prove any better. They had to crowd around the campfire to elude the hordes of mosquitoes.
Catching a glimpse of Judie fussing with her cow in the distance, Sarah glanced over at Delia. "I guess I can tolerate Judie if only for her butter. It's clever of her to put cream in that churn and put it up front in the wagon. I didn't know the motion would turn it into the sweetest, most delicious butter I've ever eaten."
"I know what you mean. I couldn't believe it when she came in riding alongside René, the cow following behind. I think I laughed for two days! There's not too much Judie finds funny. René was particularly hard on her." Delia shook her head disapprovingly.
"What do you mean?"
"Judie hated her father. He drank all the time. Judie had to do all the work on the farm. Her mamma was killed by Indians; I guess her paw couldn't face it. Anyway, when René came along, well you know René. She thought he was wonderful and, like all these other poor gullible women, she ran off to marry him. When they got here, René turned her over to his men. I don't know why René did that to Judie. He hadn't done it to any of the others. Gossip tells it René couldn't do it with her. He called her cold and told his men to teach her how to please a man. The Lord only knows. It's a shame, though. Poor girl knows nothing but misery at the hands of men."
"How did you find all this out? She doesn't talk to anyone, except to complain."
"Before Maria, Emma, Melody and you came; there was only Judie and me in this wagon. One night we found a whiskey bottle and got drunk. She told me everything. The next day she wouldn't talk to me, hasn't since."
"How sad," Sarah murmured, feeling pity not only for Judie, but for all the women who fell victim to René's sorcery. Sarah drew a steady breath. "Why does Judie hate me so much?"
"When René' brought you to our wagon, he said we were to tend to you. He said if you died, he'd kill every one of us. That did something to Judie. I think your slapping his face made a difference, yet, I think it'll take more than a slap to convince her you want to be her friend." Delia linked her arm into Sarah's and hurried them toward the somewhat distant wagons. "They've stopped for the night, thank heaven. I didn't think you'd make it. I'm glad you did. You're getting stronger every day."
Sarah rested while the woman made supper, took care of the oxen, and settled down for the night. They sat around their campfire in silence.
Reac
hing down, Sarah picked up a piece of paper from the ground. "What's this?" she asked, looking quickly to see Delia's response.
"Oh, that's a story about a man who rescued my sister and her baby some time back," Delia said, laughing as she added more sticks to the fire.
"Why do you carry it with you?"
"Because it tells me about a real man. A hero. I read it to remind myself there are men out there who care. I dream about him rescuing me from this hell-hole."
Melody reached over and took the paper from Sarah. "I'll bet he knows how to treat a lady."
"Yer forgettin' one thing, you ain't no lady no more. Yer gonna end up with some mountain man or in some saloon, jist like the rest of us. Not even this hero's gonna save us." Judie threw a small rock into the fire as she walked past the women, and headed for the wagon.
"Don't pay her no mind, Melody," Delia sniffed. "This fella gives us hope, not all men are out there to use women."
"Do you think this hero could come and save us?" Melody asked. "Mamma told me he rescued some women from the Sioux. He also rescued Sarah not long ago. Didn't he, Sarah?"
Delia's head snapped in Sarah's direction. "Land sakes, Sarah, why didn't you say something? Tell us all about it." Delia moved in closer, determined to hear it all.
Sarah's thoughts filtered back to the day she met her stranger…the hero. "All I remember is a dark-haired man. I remember him holding me against his chest. I could feel his heart beating against my face. I felt safe," she said. She felt a trail of warmth crawl up her neck, then spread across her cheeks.
"What was he rescuing you from, girl?" Delia asked in her usual straight, forward manner.
"What? I can hardly see your lips in this darkness." Sarah hated reminding them of her deafness.
"How come the hero had to rescue you?" Delia repeated slower for Sarah.
"I fell off my horse and I hurt my ribs. He brought me back to the fort. I think he might have been this hero."
"He was! Maw said he left a feather in your hands, just like with the others." Melody said, with increased excitement.
"I've read that he saved a lost wagon train from sure death. He also killed a bear that attacked an Indian camp on the Snake River," Sarah added, excited to be talking about the man she believed to be her stranger.
"Si! Me papa said this man carried a boy miles to see a doctor, saving his leg from being cut off," Maria told them.
Sarah took the paper back from Melody and held it up to the firelight. Looking further down the page she read the editorial with great interest. "Delia, have you read this article by Horace Greeley?"
"Is that the one about those Oregon-bound overlanders?"
"What's it say, Sarah?" Melody asked.
Sarah read, 'For what, then, do they brave the desert, the wilderness, the savage, the snowy precipice of the Rocky Mountains, the weary summer march, the storm-drenched bivouac, and the gnawing of famine? Only to fulfill their destiny! There is probably no one among us whose outward circumstances will be improved by this perilous pilgrimage.'
"I read that they predict not one in ten will survive the trip," said Delia.
"We're gonna die, aren't we?" Melody asked. Her body shook in what Sarah perceived to be fear.
Delia reached over and patted Melody on the knee. "We never know that, now do we, precious? We'll just keep hoping our handsome hero will come and rescue us. Now, we'd better get some sleep or we'll all be plumb tuckered out tomorrow."
Sarah rose and helped Delia raise the wagon tongue. They spread the wagon sheet over it and made a tipi shelter for their sleeping blankets.
Twisting and turning, Sarah struggled to find a comfortable position on the uneven ground, finding none. She pulled herself out far enough to be able to see the moon hang over the mountains in the distance. Large white stars flirted shamelessly with the hills. Sarah slept.
She woke to find Melody shaking her shoulder. Again the women had allowed her to sleep until breakfast was ready. Her nose should have smelled the hot biscuits cooking, yet exhaustion had overcome her.
"Melody, why does everyone always let me sleep so late? You all have to get everything packed to leave, plus get breakfast ready. You should wake me to help," Sarah protested, rising her stiff body from the ground.
"You still need more rest than the rest of us. I don't know if you realize it, but you came close to dying. René must have really hit you hard."
A wave of dizziness made Sarah pause and let it pass. She pressed her hand against her forehead, then said, "I'd give anything to get rid of this throbbing in my head."
Maria dropped some wood on the fire, then came running up to Sarah. "Señorita, you say you have a pain in your head, no?"
Sarah nodded, grateful at how well the beautiful girl adapted to speaking directly in front of her, so she could watch her lips. Sarah could tell that Maria spoke differently, her words came fast and, like René, with unusual, difficult lip motions.
"My sister, Lolita, fell down old well shaft. She had mucho pains in her head too. My mama had the doctor come see. She was to rest much. But soon the…how you say it?" her hands pressed to and from her head in a continuous motion.
"Throbbing?" Sarah offered.
"Si, throbbing. Soon this throbbing left her head and Lolita have no more problems. You must rest, Señorita. Soon you be feeling much better, no?"
"Thank you for telling me―" Sarah stopped talking and moved back as René maneuvered his horse between them. She watched in horror as he grabbed Maria's dress at the back of the neck and pulled her up in front of him, onto his horse. Maria's black, shiny eyes betrayed fear. Sarah didn't know what René said to Maria, but her ashen expression told everything.
He rode off with a squirming Maria. They rode a short distance when Sarah spotted a man on horseback. The stranger looked like a fur trader, judging from the two pack mules piled with furs. A spare saddled horse made Sarah uneasy. She couldn't see the man well, but from what she could see, he looked old enough to be Maria's father.
Sarah watched, helpless, as René dropped Maria to the ground. The trapper handed a leather bag to René and they shook hands.
Sarah watched as Maria suddenly ran across the field…running for her life. The trapper dug his heels into the side of his horse and raced alongside her. Reaching down he scooped her up, laid her belly-side down over his thighs, and then stopped.
From her position, Sarah noticed the trapper laughed at Maria's escape attempt. Something snapped within Sarah. She ran toward them. She wouldn't let René sell Maria!
Sarah rushed past René and dived at the trapper, who had been busy binding Maria's hands.
Sarah's slight weight didn't faze his sturdy, broad stature and she bounced off him, landing on the ground. Stunned, she lay staring up at him.
Dark reptilian eyes looked out from the trapper's sun-toughened face. He threw back his head and let out a great peal of laughter. She imagined it to be loud and deep. She could nearly feel the vibrations of it where she lay.
She wasn't sure what to do. She glanced at Maria and found her dark eyes were wild with fear.
"You can't buy Maria. She's just a child!" Sarah announced with more authority than she felt.
"Sorry, girlie. I've already bought her. Don't worry, Miss. She is young, strong and I'm a good man. I need a woman and she needs a man. Just the ways things are, girl," he said, then spat a wad of brown tobacco on the ground. It reminded Sarah of Giles.
René's rough hands jerked Sarah to her feet. She fought the restraint, pulling free. René moved in front of her, then said, "Sarah, go back to ze wagons. René will be forced to take severe actions for ze conduct."
Looking into his eyes, Sarah realized her very life could be in jeopardy now. A final look at the trapper lifting Maria onto the spare horse indicated Maria might be all right with this man after all. Sarah hoped he would be true to his word. She watched the large man mount his own steed, and then ride away. Maria never looked back.
A tear
rolled down Sarah's cheek. She'd just witnessed René's first sale of the trip. She'd never see beautiful, young Maria again. How could René do such a thing? "I hate you, René!" Sarah said under her breath. Filled with a wave of loathing, Sarah stomped back to the other angry, frightened women.
They didn't talk about what happened to Maria. Each of them seemed immersed in their own thoughts and loss. They ate breakfast and readied the horses for another day of travel. As if an unspoken order had been given, Sarah took up the chores done by Maria. A sense of loss filled her as she stowed the leftover food in the grub box, under the wagon seat, as she had watched Maria do so many times before.
Delia had already taken the pipe off the little sheet-iron stove, emptied the fire, and had it cooling down while she stowed the bedrolls and blankets.
Melody had the dishes washed, dried, and put away in her usual good-natured way, while Emma helped Judie hitch up the team.
They worked in silence. Sarah wondered if the trapper would treat Maria kindly. Would he marry her and settle down with her, having children and a home? Sarah asked herself these questions and realized she'd never know the answers.
Chapter Five
The sun started sinking on yet another hot, blistering day. Sheltering her face with the outstretched palm of her hands, Sarah glanced ahead of them. Several long, log buildings, rose, silhouetted against the flat terrain. She noticed a belfry on top of one building.
Moving closer to Emma, Sarah asked, "Who do you suppose lives there?"
As usual, Emma blessed herself before speaking. "It looks like an Icarian community to me."
"An Ikar – Icar…a what?"
Emma looked directly at Sarah. "An Icarian community. Haven't you ever heard of them?"
Sarah shook her head, and then pointed at a row of plain houses. "Look, Emma. Every house is exactly the same."
