For the Love of Suzanne

by Hudecek-Ashwill, Kristi

  She nodded.

  He kissed her cheek and gazed into her eyes, wondering if she even knew who he was. She was very sick and it just made him worry even more.

  “You have the chief’s woman!”

  Cody hadn’t heard Lame Bird enter his lodge and quickly threw the blanket over Suzanne’s face. “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

  She pointed at Suzanne. “That’s the chief’s slave.”

  He didn’t turn away. “This is not the chief’s slave. I found her during the raid and she is not well. What do you want?” he asked sharply.

  “You stole the chief’s slave. She is the only one with yellow hair and you have her,” she exclaimed.

  “I stole nothing,” he said coldly. “What do you want?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled smugly. “You’re going to have to keep me quiet now.”

  “What are you talking about?” he growled irritably, knowing she was going to want something in return for her silence; at this point, he would give her anything for it.

  “The chief is looking for her. They think she drowned and was carried down the river, but we know different, don’t we?”

  Her arrogance was annoying him. “You know nothing,” he said coldly.

  “Ah, Black Fox,” she sighed longingly and sat down beside him with a smile of contentment. “You think you are so smart, but you will die for this.”

  “And this makes you happy?” he asked with mild surprise. She had asked him to marry her before he’d left for battle with the white men; now she was gloating because he was facing death by the chief. He didn’t understand this at all.

  “No, but if I can’t have you, neither can she,” she said with a twinge of anger in her voice.

  “Nobody is going to die. The woman is mine,” he said calmly.

  “You’re lying,” she accused quietly.

  He shook his head with disbelief, hardly believing she’d caught him. She normally called out for him before she came in. Why had she not done that this time?

  “Keep me quiet, Cody,” she said softly and raised herself to her knees to kiss him gently.

  He was surprised by her act. She’d never done this before. Under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed it, but he turned his head and pushed her away. “No. I cannot do this.”

  She kissed him again, holding his face in her hands. “You would rather have a white whore over a woman who is one of your kind?” she purred seductively.

  He set her away again. “She was never a whore and she is with child.”

  She looked at him in shock. “Your child?”

  “I will protect her and the child,” he said sternly.

  “Is the child yours?” she demanded.

  He knew if he told her the truth, it would open Suzanne up to Tall Deer’s cruelty all over again and he may even try to kill the child. If he said yes, it would be a lie, but maybe it would make things a little more understandable for Lame Bird.

  “The child is mine,” he said quietly. “I do not wish for my son to be harmed in any way. If you tell anybody she is here, she will be harmed, my son will be harmed and I will die. My son will have no father.”

  She knew the importance of family, but she didn’t understand why he had chosen a white woman. “Are you married?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “No.”

  “Then you must marry her,” she declared.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “She is carrying your child,” she tried to reason.

  “I cannot marry her,” he said sadly.

  “Why?” she asked with frustration.

  He couldn’t tell her that Suzanne was married to someone else and that her child was her husband’s. He couldn’t tell her anything to clarify the situation without looking like he’d lost his mind. Nobody would ever believe he’d found her in a machine that took her places without walking or the aid of a horse or how she had been dressed or anything about it. He’d be shot for being crazy.

  “I cannot marry her and that’s all I can say,” he said quietly, looking at Suzanne who was sleeping peacefully, resisting the urge to touch the strands of gold that he’d failed to cover when he’d thrown the blanket on top of her.

  “She is very sick, yes?”

  He nodded. “She is,” he said sadly.

  She jumped to her feet. “Let her die,” she hissed and stormed out of the lodge.

  He leaned his head in his hand distressfully, wondering how he was going to move Suzanne. Now that Lame Bird knew she was here, he was sure the whole village would, too and he was stuck until nightfall. In the meantime, he would have to find her some clothes.

  This was getting more dangerous with each passing minute. If the chief were to find her here, he would not understand. He would consider it stealing and have them both tortured and killed.

  For the first time in his life, Cody was genuinely scared.

  Chapter 21

  Cody sat with Suzanne all day, but knew she had to eat and he was hungry as well. When night fell, he went out to hunt and gather whatever he could find to eat and find her something to wear. He didn’t go far and shot two rabbits with his bow and arrow, then cleaned them and headed back to his lodge.

  ~~~

  Suzanne was coughing and wheezing violently as she desperately tried to stay quiet. She remembered what Cody had told her about both of them being killed if she was discovered. She’d already had a brush with that and didn’t care for the experience, so she tried to muffle her coughs into the blanket.

  Her body ached. She still felt sick as she sat up and sipped more of the vile concoction that Cody had put together and wondered where he’d gone. She hoped he hadn’t left her again.

  Suddenly, five large Indian women came in with knives in their hands. None of them looked friendly and none of them was less than a man in height and weight. She knew this wasn’t a social call, but didn’t panic and stared one in the eyes, pulling the blanket around her naked body self-consciously.

  Before she could even think or react, one had her on her feet by the hair while two others seized her arms and tied her wrists together behind her back. The pain in her arm was excruciating. She felt like passing out and was unable to fight them as they bound her feet and hauled her outside into the darkness.

  She was defenseless and feared for the life of her child. “No,” she begged. “Please, no.” She knew her pleas were falling on deaf ears and hoped that her death would be quick and painless. She’d had enough.

  Outside the village, several men were standing around a small fire, laughing and joking around and went silent when the women dropped Suzanne at the feet of their chief and his son.

  Suzanne recognized Tall Deer and Walking Bull but none of the others. She didn’t know there were any other women around, until she heard one of them whimper and looked toward its source. The white women were all naked, beaten, bound, gagged and tied to trees behind the men.

  Chief Tall Deer approached her, staggering a little and waving a whiskey bottle. “You Black Fox’s woman?” he slurred.

  She looked away, shivering from the cold night air and didn’t answer.

  He yanked her to a sitting position by her arm, making her cry out. “I ask you question,” he said angrily. “You Black Fox’s woman?”

  She still didn’t look at him and was shaking her head when he slapped her hard enough to knock her back down, then yanked her up again.

  “You are Black Fox’s woman, yes?” he demanded.

  Her ears were ringing and her cheek was hot from the brutal slap and she couldn’t remember who Black Fox was. “Who?”

  “You not Black Fox’s woman?” he asked with surprise.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then you whore like the rest,” he declared and slapped her again, sending her against one of the women who had brought her here, and slamming her broken arm into the woman’s unyielding body.

  “Untie her feet,” the chief barked t
o the woman who caught her, and watched her cut the rope with a knife and move away from both of them.

  He took a firm grip on Suzanne’s hair and pushed her onto her back and her bound hands, making her sob in pain. “You whore,” he yelled and slammed her head into the dirt, then straddled her abdomen, resting his full weight on her and pinching her nose closed as he forced her head back.

  She was crying with the pain in her face. With his added weight to her arm, she was fading into unconsciousness, but was suddenly gagging as the chief pulled on her jaw and drained whiskey down her throat. She was thrashing and kicking, but he didn’t stop and only laughed with the other men. She was fighting for air and, in her panic, was able to roll the chief off her and coughed until she vomited.

  The man laughed as did the Indian women while the white women sobbed.

  The chief rolled around on the ground, holding his gut as he laughed heartily.

  Walking Bull dragged her to her feet and punched her squarely in the face, sending her flying backward. He was quick to retrieve her and drag her to the fire where he stuck the ends of her hair into the flames, holding her down with his knee on her chest. The stench was sickening. She could see it curling as it smoked and singed while the flames moved closer to her face. Tears rolled down her temples as she was forced to watch, wishing she could die any other way except by fire.

  “No. Please, don’t,” she begged and began to cough again.

  One of the other men flicked an ember onto her chest, making her shriek as it branded her bare skin, but Walking Bull was heavier and stronger than his drunk father. He laughed with the others and didn’t move the ember.

  When he moved off her and pulled his loincloth to the side, exposing himself, she knew what was coming and didn’t know how much more she could take. “Don’t hurt me,” she begged, trying to roll away from him.

  He brought her back and pinned her with his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t hurt me,” he mimicked her and laughed with everyone before cruelly biting her lip.

  She tried to move away, but he held onto her lip with his teeth until she cried out, then released it with a laugh. “Her blood is red,” he declared with a smile as he forced her legs apart with his knee, oblivious to the cheering that was going on around them.

  She could taste the blood and it was making her sick again, but her impulse to throw up was vanquished when somebody stuffed a dirty handkerchief in her mouth. She could no longer cry out and closed her eyes with the agony of what was to come.

  From nowhere, a shot rang out and Walking Bull fell on her, his weight nearly crushing her. She was losing air fast, but she heard more shots and men cry out and scramble. More shots. More fleeing. More chaos.

  She didn’t know who was shooting, but it didn’t take long to see the hero of the day when he stepped into the firelight, fully dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt, boots and a hat. He was holding pistols in his hands and had one aimed for the chief’s forehead as he rolled around in the dirt drunkenly.

  “You are too sick to exist,” he growled and pulled the trigger.

  She tried to scream, but with the gag in her mouth, it was impossible. She had a dead man on top of her whose weight was almost unbearable and making air a premium.

  Cody kicked Walking Bull’s body off her as if he were trash and quickly pulled her away from the fire. He knelt beside her and pulled the gag out of her mouth. “Don’t move,” he told her sternly and eased her onto her side, trying to be careful of her arm as he reached behind her and cut the tie that was binding her hands. “Don’t move,” he said again and went to free the other white women.

  Suzanne started throwing up while she coughed and finally fainted.

  Chapter 22

  Cody helped all the women to his lodge, but took special care with Suzanne, carrying her in his arms as his horse followed them. The other women were sobbing softly as he forbade them to speak and he followed them closely, hoping nobody would see them. Everybody’s life was in jeopardy now, especially his. He’d shot and killed Chief Tall Deer and his son, Walking Bull, and the seven or eight spectators who’d been laughing and encouraging the heinous, unfeeling men. The whole village would soon know. They would want revenge.

  He laid Suzanne inside the lodge, told the others to stay there and be quiet, then went to Lame Bird’s lodge and walked in without announcing himself. She was one of the few women who lived alone. The fire in the middle of her lodge was dying, but he could see her sleeping soundly on her pallet. He knelt beside her and quickly covered her mouth with one hand as he held a knife to her throat with the other. “Stay quiet and give me some clothes,” he ordered in a hushed but rough tone.

  She looked up at him with fear in her eyes and nodded.

  He released her and stood up as she did and watched her make her way to the other side of the small lodge and open a trunk she’d received from a white trader. “Are you leaving?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “I need clothes for the white woman. All the white women.”

  She looked at him in shock. “How many?”

  “There are four.”

  She tossed him three red calico dresses. “I don’t have anything else.”

  He figured Suzanne could wear something of his. She didn’t have an aversion to wearing strange clothing and wearing clothing for men wouldn’t offend her.

  “Take me with you,” she told him softly.

  That surprised him. “Why?”

  “I can’t live here without you.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t take you. I have enough to deal with as it is.”

  “They will kill me,” she said in a frightened voice.

  “Why?

  “I am your woman whether you like it or not. Take me,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  He knew she was right and didn’t want any more bloodshed. “Get to my lodge as fast as you can. We have no time to waste.”

  She nodded.

  He jogged through the village to his lodge where the other white women were huddled next to Suzanne and tossed them the dresses. “Get dressed,” he told them sharply. He stepped outside and got his buckskin leggings and a white cotton shirt out of his saddle bag. When he went back inside, Suzanne was throwing up as a red haired woman was helping her by rolling her onto her side. He tossed the clothes to her. “Get these on her and be careful about it. She has a broken arm.”

  A brown haired woman, who was disheveled and dirty, was still struggling with the dress. “Leave her here. She’s gonna die anyway. She’s just gonna slow us down,” she wailed.

  The redhead glared at her. “Shut up,” she hissed. “You may have been able to run Annalee around that saloon, but we’re not going to put up with your mouth and pouting. Now get over here and help us,” she said coldly.

  Cody was appalled at the woman’s lack of compassion, but had known for a long time she was the whiner of the group. Annalee had seen to her every desire because she’d threatened to leave so many times when she was the biggest moneymaker in the house. He said nothing about her cruel remarks, but he wasn’t going to tolerate her antics, either. They didn’t have time for it. If she thought he was going to leave Suzanne behind to be tortured and killed, she was sorely mistaken.

  The brown-haired woman knelt beside the other women as they worked together to dress Suzanne, who did not cry out as they guided her broken arm through the shirt sleeve.

  That worried him even more. She was unconscious and not coughing or trying to fight off anyone. The only reason he knew she was alive was because she was wheezing in her chest.

  Lame Bird came in, wearing a dress similar to the other women. “I have food and water for everyone,” she murmured to Cody.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  The brown haired woman was horrified. “She’s coming, too?”

  He glared at her. “What’s your name?”

  “Cheri,” she said in a coy voice.

  That annoyed him even more. “Well, Cheri, you will behave or I wi
ll personally put a bullet through you and leave you for the buzzards. Now, get moving.”

  She quickly went back to helping the others with dressing Suzanne.

  He handed Lame Bird his rifles and ammunition, knowing she would load it onto the horse just like she always did. He then asked her to go get five more horses.

  She did what he’d asked without question.

  He didn’t have saddles for any horse but his, and he needed it for Suzanne. He lifted the other women onto the backs of the horses and handed them the reins. When he got to Cheri, she refused to go near it. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” he asked angrily.

  “I don’t like horses,” she pouted.

  The redhead reared her horse over to them. “Get on the damn horse before we leave you,” she said between clenched teeth.

  Cody was none too gentle when he tossed her up onto the back of the bay mare and handed her the reins. “I will leave you,” he threatened the whiny woman. “We haven’t got time for this.”

  “You aren’t a very nice man,” she said with that same pout.

  “I can assure you I don’t care what you think of me. Keep up or I will leave you behind,” he told her seriously. He went to get Suzanne loaded onto his horse, no easy chore since she was still unconscious, but Lame Bird helped him. He thanked her and got on behind Suzanne, then led the women out of the village at a fast pace, headed toward what he hoped was safety.

  Chapter 23

  Cody and Lame Bird led the exhausted and now quiet women to a river far away from the village and let them rest. They refreshed themselves in the cool water and let the horses rest, drink, and eat.

  He dropped to the ground from the saddle and caught Suzanne as she was about to fall carrying her to a shady spot beside a wall of rock.

  Lame Bird followed him, carrying a canteen. “She is very sick,” she commented quietly.

  He nodded and laid her down. “She may die if I don’t get her to a doctor,” he said with unabashed concern in his voice, taking the canteen from her and dribbling some water into Suzanne’s mouth.