Inside, Hannah watched the two women preparing the tub of steaming water. It had been a long time since she had had a good bath. The Comanche people swam in lakes and streams, but so often, there was not even enough water to drink on the arid plains, much less enough to bathe in. It looked so inviting, that tub, but these white people weren’t going to let her leave and she had to leave, she had to get back or Spider would be furious to find her gone when he and the other warriors returned from their hunting trip.
The elegant, petite girl turned to her with a smile. “Look, we’ve fixed you a bath. Will you get in?”
The language took her a moment to understand because she hadn’t heard English in almost four years. She stood up and pulled off the filthy deerskin garment and moccasins. Her blue gingham dress had dissolved in tatters long ago.
Hannah nodded, and stepped into the tub, reached out her hand for the soap. What was the word? “Please,” she said.
The delicate lady smiled and handed it to her. “That’s more like it. Maria, help wash her back.”
Hannah frowned at the Tonkawa as the maid knelt stoically and began to wash her. Tonks and Comanches were enemies, and she wouldn’t trust the Tonk not to try to drown her. Oh, but the hot water and soap felt good. Hannah closed her eyes as the pretty one named Olivia smiled with satisfaction and sat down in a chair to watch. Hannah didn’t like this delicate beauty, but she wasn’t sure why. She sensed the major’s daughter was really shocked and disgusted by the captive, but wanted the men to think she was kind and thoughtful.
Hannah was clean now and wondering what to do about her hair. Just then, Olivia got up off her chair. “I’ll help wash your hair.”
Hannah decided to let her, but Olivia’s dainty hands were not gentle. She soaped Hannah’s head, pulling at her hair as if she really wanted to hurt her.
“I’ll do it,” Hannah said, but Olivia was now pushing Hannah’s head under the water of the tub. “You dirty savage,” Olivia whispered. “Stop splashing, you’re getting my dress wet.”
Hannah came up gasping and threw both hands full of water at Olivia. “Stop it! You’re drowning me!”
Olivia tried to push her head under again, but this time, Hannah came up out of the tub and grabbed Olivia, dumping her into the tub of dirty water while the maid stood by, blinking in surprise.
Hannah had to get back to the Comanches. She grabbed up her filthy buckskin and ran for the outside door, dripping wet and soapy. Maybe all the men had gone to bed and she could steal a horse and get away.
Colt was smoking his cigarette and relaxing when he heard the commotion from inside and Olivia’s scream of indignation. He tossed away his smoke just as the door flew open and a slender, naked wet girl came running out. “Oh, no, you don’t!”
He grabbed the captive and she was so wet and soapy he had a difficult time hanging onto her while she bit and fought him. However, he was stronger than she was and he hung onto her, too aware of her slender waist, long legs, and big breasts.
Olivia came to the door and she was wet, angry, and weeping. “I was trying to wash her and she tried to drown me. That’s all the thanks I get for trying to help this poor, unfortunate—”
“I’m so sorry,” Colt said, hanging onto the fighting girl. “I reckon she’s too much for a lady to handle.”
Olivia’s eyes widened with horror. “Goodness gracious. She’s naked, Lieutenant, and you—”
“Get me something; a towel, anything to wrap her,” he ordered.
With a fresh flood of tears, Olivia ran back inside as Colt carried the struggling girl into the infirmary. Now Olivia came forward with a towel and a dress. “She’s just a savage, that’s all, and I was trying to do my Christian duty—”
“It’ll be all right, Miss Olivia,” Colt soothed her. “Here, give me the towel.” He plunked the girl down on a bed.
“No, this just isn’t civilized,” Olivia protested. “Let my maid dry her off and put this dress on her.”
“You sure she’s up to it?” Colt stared at the stout Indian woman, who looked doubtful.
“Well, maybe it’ll take all three of us.” Olivia blushed and the three of them tackled the task of drying and dressing the captive. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant. I know this must be embarrassing for a gentleman.”
“Not much embarrasses me, miss,” he said through clenched teeth as they got the girl into the chemise and drawers, then into Olivia’s cast-off blue dress. Her hair was still a soapy mess and she managed to hit Olivia in the face as she struggled.
The major’s daughter burst into a fresh flood of tears. “Did you see what she did? She did that deliberately. Why, she’s like a savage herself.”
The girl stopped struggling and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Colt took out a handkerchief and offered it to the weeping girl. “I’m so sorry, Miss Olivia. She’s just more than a lady like you can deal with.” He turned to the now-wet maid. “Go get Doc. Maybe he can get some food and some medicine down her.”
The girl looked up at him as the maid left. She was prettier now that her face was clean, but she’d never be a great beauty like the petite Olivia. “She tried to drown me,” she said slowly, as if searching for the English words.
“I did not!” Olivia wailed. “I was trying to help her and she tried to jerk me into the tub.”
Colt looked down into the honest blue eyes and wavered; then he went to Olivia’s side. “There, there, ma’am. You tried to help. Maybe she just didn’t understand. She’s had a hard time.”
The girl looked toward the door again. “I need to go back to my little boy.”
Oh, God, he felt so sorry for her. He came back and squatted before her, took one of her work-worn hands in his. “I was told your baby is dead, Mrs. Brownley. Don’t you remember? In a few days, maybe your husband will come for you.”
She shook her head, dripping water. “No. No.”
He didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless and he was a man who had dealt with death and killing, rattlesnakes and tornados.
Doc came in just then, accompanied by the maid. He yawned and looked around. “Dag nab it! What in the name of goodness happened in here? It looks like Noah’s flood.”
Olivia sobbed again. “I was trying to wash her and she tried to drown me.”
“Tsk tsk.” The doc shook his head, muttering something about savages.
Colt looked at the girl with soap dripping from her hair. “If I get you a bucket of water, would you want to wash your own hair?”
The girl nodded.
“Watch out!” Olivia warned. “She’ll try to get away again.”
“I don’t think so,” Colt answered softly and got a bucket of water, put it on the nearby table, and offered the girl a bar of soap and a dry towel.
Hesitantly, she took those from him and went to the bucket and began to wash her own hair.
Everyone seemed to sigh in relief.
Doc said, “Would anyone like something to eat? I’ve got some cold roast beef and some pickles if the maid can make sandwiches and she can put on a pot of coffee.”
“Sounds good,” Colt said, thinking it had been a long time since he’d eaten.
The doctor and the maid went back into Doc’s quarters and Colt could hear them moving around in there and the clatter of pans and dishes.
In the meantime, the girl had finished with her hair and was drying it. Colt thought it looked like spun gold in the dim light. Muakatu. Moonlight. It had been an apt name for the captive. He knelt in front of her. “Are you hungry? Would you like some food?”
She seemed to think about it, then nodded slowly. “Yes, but I must go back.”
Olivia snorted. “She must be deaf or stupid.”
Colt took both the girl’s worn hands in his two hands. “You can’t go back. Do you understand? Your husband will be coming to get you.”
“Luther?” She frowned.
“Yes, I reckon that’s his name,” Colt said.
“No.�
�� Her lip trembled, but she did not cry.
“You don’t want to go back to your husband?” Colt whispered.
She shook her head.
“Goodness gracious,” Olivia exclaimed. “What kind of woman is she? He’ll take her back to her old life, back to civilization, and she doesn’t even appreciate all our efforts.”
“We don’t know all there is to know,” he said. Then he looked deep into Hannah’s eyes. “All right, if you don’t want to go with Luther, I won’t let him take you.”
For the very first time, the girl smiled and Colt wondered then why he had thought her plain. When she smiled, there was a shy beauty about her.
Doc came in just then with a coffeepot, followed by the maid with a tray of sandwiches and some gingerbread. He put it all down on a table. “All right, everyone pull up a chair and we’ll eat.”
The maid put small plates around the table and poured coffee. Colt could smell it from here and it smelled wonderful. The girl seemed to smell it, too, because she brightened. Colt took her hand and led her to the table, where she sat down uncertainly. It had probably been years since she’d used a chair, Colt thought.
“Well?” Olivia said. “Lieutenant, aren’t you going to pull out my chair for me?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss Olivia.” Colt hurriedly pulled out her chair, and the dark beauty sat down with a rustle of fine petticoats.
The girl stared at the sandwiches. Colt saw Doc slip a pill into her cup of coffee as he poured. Then Hannah reached out and grabbed a sandwich off the tray and began to wolf it down.
“Well!” said Olivia. “What atrocious manners.”
The girl continued to wolf her sandwich and gulp her coffee as the two men watched in pity.
Doc reached out and patted her hand. “There’s plenty more, Mrs. Brownley.”
Colt said, “Sometimes in a Comanche camp, the food gets pretty thin for the whole tribe.”
Olivia looked around the table. “Oh, dear, are there no napkins?”
Doc said, “I’m so sorry, Miss Murphy, I forget about how ladies are.” He turned to the maid. “There’s some on the table by the stove.”
The stout, silent girl went off to get them.
In the meantime, Hannah wiped her hands on her skirt and reached for another sandwich and gulped the last of her coffee.
In a moment, the maid was back with the napkins and the others started to eat. Colt tried not to wolf his food, suddenly very conscious of his manners in front of the genteel Olivia. No one had ever taught him how a gentleman dines, and he had a feeling Olivia was watching with disapproval.
Hannah was finished before the others. The doctor poured her another cup of coffee and put a piece of gingerbread on her plate. He offered her a fork, but she had already picked up the cake with her hands and tasted it. “Gingerbread.” She smiled.
Colt found himself smiling back at her. “I’ll wager you haven’t had any gingerbread for a long time.”
“She’s eating it with her hands,” Olivia gasped in a shocked whisper.
Hannah hesitated, looked embarrassed and uncertain.
Doc said, “Look, I eat mine with my hands, too.” He picked up the gingerbread and took a bite. Colt followed suit while Olivia gasped and primly helped herself to the gingerbread and ate it with her fork.
Hannah finished her gingerbread and reached for the last sandwich. She wrapped it carefully in the cloth napkin.
Colt said, “There’s plenty. You don’t have to squirrel food away.”
She looked at him. “I take it with me when I go.”
Colt sighed and looked over at Doc.
Olivia said, “I do believe she’s daft.”
Hannah’s eyes gradually closed, and then she jerked awake. Doc’s medicine was beginning to work, Colt thought.
“Here, Miss Hannah, wouldn’t you like to bring your sandwich and sit on this bed?” Colt asked, standing up.
“No, I’m going now.” She yawned and tried to stand up, but her legs gave out from under her and Colt caught her as she fell, took the sandwich from her hand, and carried her over and laid her on a bed.
“Doc, I think I’d better tie one of her wrists to the bed, otherwise, she’ll take off.”
“Do that. It’ll be dawn soon and then there’ll be other people to deal with her.”
“Well,” Olivia said, “I think my maid and I will be retiring now. I’ve got to get into some dry clothes before I catch a chill. My delicate constitution can’t take being wet.”
“We all appreciate your help.” Colt looked up from tying Hannah’s wrist to the iron bedstead.
“Well, she certainly didn’t appreciate it.” Olivia glared at the sleeping girl. “And I was trying to do my Christian duty. Why, my mother would have gotten the vapors if she could have seen me on my knees by that tub, trying to scrub that pitiful thing.”
“And I’m sure she appreciates it,” Doc said. “Now you and your maid can return to your quarters.”
Olivia and her maid left with a whirl of skirts and a door slam.
Colt sighed. Dealing with a real lady was more trouble than he’d bargained for. “Doc, I think I’ll sit outside on the porch, just in case Mrs. Brownley gets loose again.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
“She’s survived almost four years in a Comanche camp. She’s pretty plucky and tough for a girl.”
Doc nodded and went back through the door to his quarters.
Colt looked down at Hannah. The lines in her suntanned face had smoothed out and she looked younger and without care. Her dress was too short and it showed her ankles and her bare feet. She had tiny feet, but they looked like they had carried her a long way, mostly without shoes or moccasins. The Comanches were a mobile people who moved often, following herds of buffalo.
Colt put the precious sandwich back in her palm and she clutched it to her in her sleep. Remembering his own time among the tribe, he knew food was precious. Life among the plains tribes was hard and getting worse because of the white man’s encroachment on their lands. He wondered again why she wanted so badly to return to the Indian camp and how long it would take before Luther Brownley would show up to reclaim his reluctant wife.
Colt spread a blanket over the sleeping girl and went outside, sat down, and leaned against a post and smoked a cigarette, thinking about his own life among the Comanche and whether he wanted to stay in the army. His enlistment would be up in mid-June. Finally he dropped off to sleep.
In the middle of the night, Hannah awoke with a start, tried to remember where she was and what had happened. Then she realized she was tied by one wrist. She tucked her precious sandwich into her bodice and began to chew on her bindings. It was almost dawn when she had chewed through the ropes that bound her. Now she could escape.
Chapter 3
By the time Hannah managed to chew through the rope and free herself, it was coming dawn. She looked through the window and saw that tall lieutenant who had captured her sitting asleep against a post on the porch.
The whole fort was starting to stir, men crossing the parade grounds, the bugle sounding, the flag raising. She wouldn’t have a chance of getting away right now, but she had to get back to the Comanche camp.
What to do? Hannah thought a minute. If she could convince all these white people that she was trustworthy and grateful, they would begin to trust her. In a day or so, she would be able to escape under cover of darkness because they wouldn’t be expecting it.
She heard stirring from Doc’s quarters and she got up and went to sit at the table. Doc came in just then, yawning and scratching his bald head and the fringe of white hair surrounding it. “Oh, are you up, young lady? How did you—?”
“It was hurting.” She looked down at her wrist, which still had shreds of rope on it. “I feel better now.”
“Good. I’m glad you seem to have come to your senses. I know you have been through a terrible ordeal.” His accent was clipped and sounded strange to the Texas gir
l. He must have come from farther north.
She had to think a minute to come up with English words. She had spoken nothing but Comanche for so long. “I—I was afraid last night, not sure what had happened.”
He nodded and smiled. “I’ll start us some coffee and bacon.”
“Thank you, but I have my sandwich from last night.” She nodded toward the leftover she had laid on her bedside table.
“Never mind. I’ll throw that away and get you some biscuits and gravy. I’m pretty good in the kitchen. My wife died years ago and I had to learn.”
As he turned away, Hannah said, “The lieutenant is still sitting outside asleep.”
“Oh? I’ll invite him in to share.” Doc went to the door and opened it. “Good morning, Lieutenant. We’re starting some breakfast. Care to join us?”
Past Doc’s shoulder, she saw the big, dark-haired officer come awake with a start, and he stood up, moving as if he was stiff and sore. “Oh, hell, Doc. How’s our captive?”
“Completely different this morning. Come on in.”
She smiled at the tall soldier as he blinked at her. He had black hair and green eyes and a deep tan. He came inside and shut the door behind him, stared at her. “How did you—?”
“It hurt my arm.” She shrugged and rubbed her wrist.
Doc said, “Dag nab it, I’ll go get some coffee going, you two can talk.” He left the room and went back to his quarters.
Colt Page 4
