Untamed

by Sharon Ihle

  In the end, since she and Caleb were not welcome at the cabin any longer, Josie had no choice but to head back to town, leaving Sweetpea behind. She did so vowing to her and to everyone in earshot that she would be back come spring to claim what was rightfully hers.

  Josie was not, however, a fool.

  She knew that if she waited until spring to return, her hope for the future would be long gone. In fact, she was quite certain that the minute she rode out of sight this morning, Long Belly would be making plans to transport Sweetpea to the Cheyenne camp. She didn't know as yet how she would prevent this from happening, but she got to work on a scheme the minute she mounted the little brown mare.

  The ride between the cabin and the Saint Labre Indian Mission was only about ten miles, but thanks to the heavy snowfall and drifts in some places as high as their mounts' withers, it took them a good four hours to cover the distance. Daniel, who had business at the mission, led the way aboard The Black. Caleb and his mount brought up the rear, with Josie sandwiched between the two, her mind working every bit as hard as the mare's slender legs.

  Early on in the ride she came up with a reckless plan that would keep Sweetpea by her side and to some extent ensure that she would retain ownership of the animal. Josie dismissed this insane idea time and time again in hopes of finding a less volatile, more viable alternative. By the time they reached the banks of the Tongue River and the long, rustic cabin that served as the mission, there didn't seem to be another choice.

  She would go ahead with the daring plan, even though it was risky in ways Josie didn't want to think about. She would not only go ahead with it, but she would see the crazy scheme through to the finish, come hell or high water.

  In fact, an entire herd of wild buffalos couldn't have stopped her.

  Chapter 14

  Christmas preparations were under way when Daniel and his little group arrived at the Saint Labre Mission. There were two buildings on the property—the mission itself, a long three-room log cabin with a huge wooden cross rising from the roof, and a two-story structure known as 'the White House.' It served as convent for the Ursuline Sisters, who ran the school, housed classrooms and the girl's dormitory, and also supplied a small chapel for daily worship. Sister Ignatius McFarland was passing between the two buildings, carrying a miniature manger complete with crib, as Daniel rode up.

  "Hello," she called, her long black habit flapping in the wind. "With that broken leg of yours and all this bad weather, I was worried we wouldn't see you again until spring."

  Daniel swung down off The Black, careful not to land on his bad leg, and then tore off his hat and canted his head. "I couldn't wait until spring to see you again, Sister Iggy," he said, using his pet name for her. "I'd have crawled through a blizzard long before then if I had to, just to see your pretty face again."

  She chuckled, her round little cheeks crimson against the stark white coif of her habit, and then turned to his companions. "Why, it's Mr. Baum, isn't it?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Caleb said, dismounting. "I found the agent's cabin just where you said it'd be."

  As Josie climbed down off the mare, the nun greeted her. "And you must be Mr. Baum's sister."

  "That's right," she said, shaking her hand. "Josie's the name."

  "I'm Sister Ignatius. Please, come to the White House with me, everyone. We were just about to sit down to hot chocolate and sandwiches."

  "The rest of you go ahead." Daniel fitted his hat to his head. "I have some business to go over with Father van der Velden. Is he at the mission?"

  She nodded. "I believe he's in the kitchen with some sickly boys who just arrived."

  Daniel beaded toward the log cabin, wishing there were at least three of Father Aloysius van der Velden, a Dutch Jesuit who not only offered the Cheyenne religious and educational instructions, but medical knowledge and pure unbigoted friendship. If there was a fault in the man or the mission system, it was the fact that he tried so hard to convert the Indians to Catholicism when they already had their own belief in God and their own religion, which was a part of their daily lives. Another problem was that the Cheyenne saw themselves as extensions of nature and related to it spiritually, which sometimes looked like pagan ritual to Christians. Daniel found those ceremonies no more primitive than the rituals Father van der Velden performed at the mission—especially when he went around swinging a smoke pot or sprinkling holy water on everyone who got in his way.

  As rustic on the inside as it was on the outside, the cabin had no doors or partitions separating its three distinct sections, but each had a clear purpose. The smallest room was the rectory or priests' quarters; the middle, formerly the classroom, was now the boys' dorm; and the largest formed a combination kitchen and dining room. It was in this largest section that Daniel found the Jesuit, who was serving bowls of soup to two young, pale-faced Cheyenne boys.

  Father van der Velden looked up as Daniel stepped into the room. "Ah, if it isn't our awkward Indian agent. How is your leg doing?"

  "Fine," he grumbled, anxious to move to another topic. "Has the government sent more supplies yet? We could sure use a fresh load at Lame Deer."

  "We got some flour and a few more staples, but I'm afraid they didn't send money for meat this time. We barely have enough for us to survive at the mission this winter."

  Daniel nodded, even though the priest's back was to him. "Just like last winter, huh?"

  Father van der Velden looked away from the soup pot and turned to Daniel with a rare frown. Blue-eyed and fair-haired, the priest usually had a smile and a kind word, no matter the subject. "I'm afraid so, but also like last winter, we expect the Lord will provide."

  Not much Daniel could say to that except, "Well, I'm sure the tribe will appreciate the flour and staples. I wrote another letter to the agency. Who knows, maybe they will provide this time and the Lord can take this winter off."

  "We can hope." The priest returned to the soup pot and began filling a couple of bowls. "I could use a little fresh air. Why don't you join me outside for a stroll as soon as I have these boys settled in with their meal?"

  A walk didn't sound particularly good to Daniel, not with the dull ache pounding in his shin, but he sensed the clergyman wanted a little privacy for the rest of their discussion. When the soup had been served, he followed van der Velden back to the grounds, a hundred and sixty acres of good farmland that was not officially part of the Cheyenne reservation.

  With the mission so far away, it meant that members of the tribe had to travel upwards of twenty miles in all kinds of weather to get their supplies, making it difficult for most of them to receive the rations they needed so desperately. That was but one of the problems Daniel hoped to address here today. The other had to do with the persistent rumor that the government intended to put the Cheyenne Indians on the Crow reservation, merging them with the very people they hated the most. If Daniel had his way, this would never happen, at least not without a lot of bloodshed and needless waste of human life.

  When Father van der Velden felt secluded enough to speak up, he surprised Daniel by addressing another issue entirely. "A young man came here a couple of days ago looking for an Indian who'd kidnapped a young white woman from Miles City a few weeks back."

  Daniel groaned, unable to stop the involuntary reaction.

  "Your brother-in-law came here about six weeks ago and asked us to look after his horses while he borrowed a boat and went into town." Father van der Velden linked his hands behind his back, and deep furrows cut into his forehead. "When he returned the following night, he collected his horses without alerting anyone. Do you know if he is the Indian in question?"

  Again Daniel groaned. "Well... yes. He's the one all right, but Long Belly didn't exactly kidnap the women."

  "Women?" The clergyman clutched his chest through his black robe. "He took more than one?"

  Daniel nodded as he considered ways of explaining the situation without slinging mud on the ladies or on Long Belly. "My brother-in-law tho
ught that he paid for the women, not just a few minutes of their time, and brought them home to me as gifts."

  The priest raised his sandy eyebrows. "He believes that females can be bought and sold as gifts, Daniel?"

  "Well... yes. At least, he did."

  Falling all over himself, he then tried to explain the whorehouse away without actually explaining. "You see, because of this broken leg of mine, Long Belly decided that I needed more help than he could give me. When he heard that white men have places that—er, sell women, he figured he could get the help I need there. Understand?"

  Father van der Velden held his gaze steady. "I am a priest, Daniel, not a saint. I am aware that such places exist and I know why they continue to thrive. Do go on. Tell me about this second woman. Is her family also looking for her?"

  "Not that I know of." Too embarrassed to look the priest in the eye, Daniel made a show of cleaning his fingernails instead. "Sissy has been working at the—ah, pleasure palace for some time, but she decided she'd rather winter on the reservation with Long Belly than return to Miles City right away."

  Father van der Velden stopped walking. "And you're quite sure this was her choice, not something your brother-in-law forced her into?"

  "Positive," Daniel was able to say. "Those two have what you might call a hankering for each other."

  The priest nodded, thinking things over. "And what's become of the other woman?"

  "Josie is her name." Just saying it out loud gave Daniel pause, a moment to reflect on how much duller his life would be without her around to keep him fired up. He cleared his throat before he could go on. "She's here now with her brother, the young man who rode into the mission looking for her a while back. Josie isn't like Sissy, if you get my drift. She isn't a—er, you know—"

  "Prostitute?"

  "Right."

  Lord, how Daniel hated this conversation, especially now that it centered on Josie and her moral standards. He couldn't think of them without thinking about the shameless way he'd treated her—no matter that she hadn't straightened him out on her status. He should have known better somehow—in fact, did, but chose to ignore his gut instincts in favor of more lustful pursuits.

  The priest looked him in the eye. "If Miss Baum wasn't employed at this sinful place, then what on earth was she doing at such an establishment?"

  Daniel explained it clean and simple, leaving out all mention of her family. "Josie was just a laundress there who happened to cross Long Belly's path."

  Father van der Velden eyed him thoughtfully. "So your story is that your brother-in-law inadvertently kidnapped a prostitute and a rancher's innocent daughter." He shook his head in amazement. "You do realize, don't you, that we're just barely hanging on to this mission because Sister Ignatius had the good sense to homestead the land in her own name?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Then you must also know that the white ranchers in this area would love any excuse to drive us out of here, especially something as morally corrupt as this."

  "I'm aware of that."

  "See that you don't forget it."

  Mulling things over, the priest began walking again, head bent in thought, until they reached the White House. Then he trapped Daniel in his trademark and very persuasive smile.

  "May I assume that there will be no further problems with this young woman or her brother?"

  Pleased with the way he'd handled everything, Daniel gave a resolute nod. "None whatsoever. You have my word on it."

  Inside the White House, Josie struggled to contain her mounting nerves. Although she found the Cheyenne girls charming and very talented as they showed off their sewing and fancy work, her mind was on one thing—the plan. Over and over she questioned whether she was making the right choice. She could go back to Miles City and take her old job, she supposed, but what good would that do? A job as a laundress at a house of ill repute would hardly improve her chances of securing a loan with a banker, especially if she didn't have a buffalo to use as bait. That in turn made her think of Sweetpea and what Long Belly and his tribe might be doing to her at this very moment. It also convinced Josie that she'd made the right decision, crazy and risky as it might seem. She really had no other choice.

  "Come on in, Calf Road," said Sister Ignatius, coaxing one of her young students into the room. "Show our visitors what you are making."

  The shy young Indian girl finally came into the room, eyes pinned to the thin carpet beneath her feet, and held up a calico dress of faded blue. "I have made this Christmas gift for my mother, Pushed by Everybody, who cannot come to school and be taught by the wihonas."

  "By whom?" asked Sister Ignatius.

  "By the nuns," she said, a giggle in her voice.

  Turning to Caleb and Josie, Sister Ignatius said, "We try to make sure that the children speak only English to us, and as a rule, we speak only Cheyenne to them. We've learned much from each other that way. Have we not, Calf Road?"

  With another giggle, the girl nodded, and then dashed out of the room. She almost crashed headlong into Daniel and a very pleasant-faced man dressed in a long black robe—the sort who looked as if he might easily become an ally.

  "Father van der Velden," said the nun as she rose from the couch. "Come say hello to our guests, Caleb Baum and his sister, Josie."

  Climbing to her feet alongside her brother, Josie exchanged greetings with the clergyman, then chose to remain standing when the priest insisted they return to their seats. Taking what he thought was Josie's cue, and in some ways it was, Caleb remained standing, too, ready to start the journey to Miles City.

  "Thanks for the hot chocolate and all," he said. "But we'd better be heading out if we want to cover any ground before nightfall."

  Father van der Velden wouldn't hear of it. "Oh, but why not stay the night as you did before, young man? We have plenty of room for the two of you, and besides, your mounts will make much better headway if they start out fresh in the morning."

  "Thank you kindly, sir, that's right friendly of you, offering to put me up twice." He glanced at Josie, eyebrows raised expectantly. "I'm sure my sister would appreciate your hospitality, too. Wouldn't you, Josie?"

  All eyes went to her, including Daniel's. Avoiding that bright blue pair in particular, she shrugged and boldly set her plan in motion. "I suppose it would be best for the horses if we stayed here tonight—that is, if you have a place for me away from the girls in your care."

  The nun and the priest exchanged a puzzled glance. Then Sister Ignatius said, "You're very welcome to stay here with the girls, Miss Baum. It won't be a problem at all."

  "Not for me, maybe," she said, hanging her head, "But I don't think you really want someone like me around your innocent young students. You see, I've been... compromised."

  Sister Ignatius's hand flew to her mouth, trying no doubt to mute a horrified gasp that escaped anyway.

  Father van der Velden sputtered a minute, then turned to Daniel and said, "You assured me there would be no problems."

  "I—well, sir, I didn't expect—"

  "Was this woman compromised while she was in your home?"

  Josie felt rather than saw Daniel's stare, knowing that he was waiting for her to set the priest straight. She did. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Father. Not only was I kidnapped and taken against my will to Mr. McCord's cabin, he forced me to get undressed and sleep in his bed with him, night after night."

  "Daniel?" The priest's neck was mottled with splotches of red and his face was no longer kind or somber. In fact he almost looked capable of murder. "Is this true?"

  "Well, yes, but—"

  "Did you violate this unfortunate woman?"

  From the corner of her properly downcast eye, Josie saw Daniel loosen his collar.

  "Well," he said, his voice cracking. "That depends on what you mean by violate, I suppose."

  Fanning the flames, Josie leaned toward the priest and whispered just loudly enough for all to hear, "He made me remove my clothing—isn
't that violation enough, sir?"

  Father van der Velden's eyes bulged as he sputtered, "I... ah... Daniel?"

  "Well, I suppose I may have done a couple of things I shouldn't have, but she—"

  "You're not," said the priest, cutting Daniel off, "going to stand there and tell me that your less-than-honorable behavior was the fault of this virtuous young woman, are you?"

  "Well, no, but—"

  "I know'd it," shouted Caleb, surprising everyone. "I know'd that no-account bastard had been raping Josie all along, and now I got to kill him."

  Catching all but Josie off guard, Caleb lunged at Daniel, and might even have knocked him to the ground if she hadn't stepped between the two, blocking his progress. Hands braced against Caleb's shoulders, Josie flashed a grin meant only for his eyes.

  "Have you forgotten where we are, Caleb?" She heaved a dramatic sigh and pointed into the next room, where an elaborately garnished alter dominated the nun's chapel. "This is no place for talk of killing. I'll be all right... eventually."

  "But Josie," Caleb objected, "what kind of brother would I be if I just stood here and did nothing to avenge your honor?"

  "Never fear," said Father van der Velden. "Our friend Daniel McCord will be making amends for maligning your sister's good name. I'm sure he's already settled on a way to restore her honor, haven't you, son?"

  The look Daniel shot Josie just before all eyes turned on him hinted that he'd figured out the exact method of her murder, not of making amends. He did an admirable job of hiding those feelings, however, when he turned to face the others.

  "I reckon I do owe Miss Baum and her brother an apology," he said quietly, addressing neither of them directly. "In my own defense I do have to say that I was under the impression that Josie was a woman of easy virtue when Long Belly brought her to me. I treated her accordingly."