Sweet Prairie Passion (Savage Destiny)
Page 15
To Abbie’s relief, the dance finally ended, and Robards bowed low to her. When she glared back at him, he grinned. Bobby Jones brought her some coffee to drink, and the two of them watched the others for a while. Abbie noticed Morris Connely talking to Rube Givens, and that worried her. It was already obvious the man hated Zeke for some reason, and now he was talking to one of Zeke’s most hated enemies. To make matters worse, Quentin Robards joined them, and they all talked like old friends. Abbie’s heart raced with apprehension. She tried to piece together why they would be talking, especially Robards, who should by all rights hate Rube Givens for his attack on LeeAnn. How could he possibly act friendly toward the worthless Rube Givens?
The music started again, and the three men nodded as if in agreement and split up. As she danced again with Bobby, Abbie’s mind whirled with confusion over what she had just seen. When the dance ended, Bobby left her to speak with Kelsoe, and Abbie walked over to a table of food and picked up a piece of berry pie. She stood there alone for a moment, watching the skirts of the dancing women whirl—and watching the crowd for Zeke. But he was not there. She started to bite into the pie when she felt a hand on her waist.
“How about a dance, pretty girl?” came the hated voice. Her blood ran cold, and she whirled to see Givens behind her, grinning.
“You get away from me!” she hissed. Everyone was so busy having a good time that no one had noticed.
“Some day you’re gonna be out there somewhere unprotected, little girl. And I’m gonna finish what I started back there at Sapling Grove—and you’re gonna be moanin’ and likin’ it,” he told her with a grin. “I’m gonna be first between them pretty legs, missy.”
Far more angry than afraid, she impulsively shoved the berry pie into the man’s face, rubbing it in slightly; then running over to her father, she picked up the man’s rifle, aiming it at Givens.
“You come near me again, Rube Givens, and I’ll blow you in half!” she spouted, not caring who heard. The music stopped, and people quieted. Some started to snicker at the sight of Rube Givens standing there scraping pie off his face, which was now purple with berry stains. Trent stood up and took the gun from his daughter, just as Cheyenne Zeke suddenly loomed into the circle out of the darkness. Abbie’s chest tightened; she wondered if Givens had deliberately created the incident, knowing Zeke was out there somewhere and wanting to start something with him. But she was too angry to worry about that. And she was too glad to see Zeke to fear a confrontation. After all, Zeke could easily take care of a man like Rube Givens.
“You people got a problem here?” Zeke asked, calm but hard. His eyes were on Givens, and if looks could kill, Abbie knew Givens would have been sliced up the middle then and there. Her heart fluttered with pleasure because he’d stepped in on her behalf.
“He said a foul thing to me!” she spoke up in a shaky voice, glaring at Givens herself. Trent had been keeping his rifle on Givens, and now he pushed Abbie to the side. Givens wiped his face with the sleeve of his filthy buckskin shirt, and looked back at Zeke with hate-filled eyes.
“I ain’t armed, Zeke!” he growled.
“Too bad.” Zeke reached over and gently pushed down the barrel of Trent’s gun, telling him without words to back off. This was between Cheyenne Zeke and Rube Givens. “What are you doing here, Givens?” he asked. “I thought I told your men back at Sapling Grove that I didn’t want to see your face again—else you’d be dead.”
Everyone quieted to a deadly silence, backing away slightly. Most knew Zeke’s temper and skill, and Abbie was relieved to see that the men he’d been with earlier now stood near Givens’ men, warning them by their eyes and their presence that if they intended to join in with Rube Givens against Zeke, they’d better think twice. Olin Wales was with them, his rifle in hand.
“You can’t order me around, half-breed!” Givens snarled. “I’ve got as much right to be here as you do! All I did was ask the girl to dance! She’s lyin’ about what I said!”
“I don’t lie!” Abbie blurted out. “You said a filthy thing!”
Zeke stepped closer to Givens, but Givens just smiled confidently. “You gonna kill a man in cold blood in front of all these people?” he sneered. “I told you before, I ain’t armed. I came to this dance real respectable like, and I left my weapons with my gear on account of the ladies present.”
Abbie rolled her eyes, and would have laughed at that ridiculous lie if not for the gravity of the situation and her own anger.
“Oh, yes, we all know what a gentleman you are, Givens,” Zeke replied. “Some of these folks here have seen firsthand how you treat ladies. You rope them and drag them off! You get yourself out of here, Givens, or I’ll kill you—armed or not!”
Givens crossed his arms. “I don’t think so. These are Christian folk, and they won’t allow you to get away with guttin’ out an unarmed man! Besides, I openly admit to these people that I was just drunk that day, and I humbly apologize for what I done.” He grinned slyly and bowed to Abbie. “I am most sorry, young lady.” He looked around at the others, putting on a grand act of humility. “I am sure you Christian folks can find it in your hearts to forgive a man for one moment of weakness, brought on by the demons of whiskey. I have not touched a drop tonight, and—”
“Cut the act, Givens!” Zeke roared. “You’re a murderer and a thief. Olin and I know that firsthand!”
Givens moved his bloodshot eyes back to Zeke. “Well, while we’re talkin’ about murderers, why don’t we talk about you, Zeke Monroe!” he replied.
A few people whispered at the mention of Zeke’s last name, and Zeke actually backed up a little, looking as though someone had just hit him in the belly. His breathing quickened, and Abbie’s heart raced with confusion, while Givens grinned more, looking around at the others.
“See how he reacted to that name?” he gloated. “That’s cause that’s his real name—give to him by his white pa back in Tennessee!” Zeke stood speechless as Givens strutted, cocky and sure of himself now. “Can’t say as how I found out, but I done figured out who your half-breed scout really is!” he bragged to the others. “You folks ought to find out more about who you pick to lead you!”
“Shut up, Givens!” Zeke snarled, his fists clenching and his jaws flexing with anger.
“Why should I?” Givens shot back. “I’m right, ain’t I? You’re Zeke Monroe. I know by how you reacted to the name. Some of the other folks here from Tennessee might know that name. Because about five years ago, back in Tennessee, a young half-breed by the name of Ezekiel Monroe murdered eight men—one by one! Hung them by their heels and gutted them out like fresh-killed deer while they was still alive!”
People gasped, and Yolanda Brown actually fainted. Abbie’s heart bled for Zeke, who stood there like a piece of stone. He wasn’t denying any of it.
Eight
Zeke glanced around at the quieted crowd of people, his dark eyes searching, as though he expected to be pounced upon and captured like a hunted animal. Abbie watched him with a mixture of love and apprehension, telling herself there had to be a reason for the eight brutal murders of which Rube Givens had accused him. She knew by his eyes that the story must be true, and for the first time she realized a man had the upper hand with Cheyenne Zeke. That could not be gotten with fists or weapons, courage or strength. But it could be done with simple words, and Rube Givens had found the right ones. Zeke had flinched at the name Ezekiel Monroe as though Givens had injured him physically, and now Givens stood grinning at Zeke, feeling victorious. The attention had been drawn away from himself and directed at Cheyenne Zeke.
“Is it true, Zeke?” Kelsoe spoke up quietly. “Did you kill eight men back in Tennessee—in cold blood?”
Zeke slowly turned to face the man, his muscles hardened as though ready to defend himself, his hand resting on the handle of his knife. He stared almost blankly at Kelsoe a moment, then replied in a low, strained voice. “It’s true.” He offered no explanation, and the tenseness in his s
tatement, along with the fact that he’d like nothing better than to kill Rube Givens for what he’d said, seemed to emanate from his body, making him almost tremble, like a volcano preparing to erupt.
“You wanted by the law back there?” Jason Trent asked. Zeke’s eyes darted in the man’s direction, then rested on Abbie for a moment, holding her eyes, trying to explain without words. The pain she saw there erased her horror at the thought of what he’d done. Surely there had been a reason, and she had no doubt it had to do with the still-unknown fate of his wife and son.
“I expect the authorities would like to see me step back into the state,” he replied. “It’s been a few years, but I suppose I’m still a wanted man there.”
“You bet he is!” Givens spoke up. “They’d like to string that half-breed’s hide from the highest tree! And I say we can do it for them, and rid ourselves of a dangerous, murderin’ half-breed who likes white women! That’s what his first wife was, you know. You’d best get rid of this half-breed bastard before one of you men finds his wife or daughter’s been violated by-”
Zeke whirled and his knife was out now. “You shut your filthy mouth, Givens! Ellen was my wife and I loved her,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Givens smiled haughtily. “What are you gonna do, Zeke? You gonna gut me out in front of all these people? Go ahead! Show them the kind of things half-breeds do. Show them how you killed those eight men!”
“That’s enough!” Harriet Hanes spoke up, stepping forward. She walked up to Zeke, her chin held high, her eyes showing no fear. “Put the knife away, Zeke,” she said, almost pleadingly. Zeke stood there a moment, still glaring at Rube Givens; then slowly he looked down at Mrs. Hanes. “Please,” she added calmly. “Mary is watching.”
Zeke blinked as though coming out of some kind of trance, and he slid the knife into its sheath. Mrs. Hanes looked around at the people from the train.
“This man saved my husband from infection. He saved my daughter’s life from snakebite, and he risked his life to save all of us from an Indian attack!” Her eyes moved from person to person. “Do all of you intend to leave it like this—to believe Rube Givens, whom we already know is a far from reputable man? Don’t any of you want to know why Zeke killed the men? Perhaps it was not justifiable, but neither is what we are doing here justice!”
“Indians don’t get the same justice as a white man!” Willis Brown sneered. “Everybody knows Indians aren’t allowed to have any say. And a half-breed is worth even less! I say since he’s admitted to his crimes, we do the Tennessee authorities a favor and hang him—here and now!”
“No!” Abbie cried out, not caring that people stared at her because of her sudden outburst. Her heart raced with panic at the thought of such an end for Cheyenne Zeke. Zeke had already backed up a little, and he had his hand on the knife again, ready to defend himself if someone tried to grab him.
“You’re the one who ought to be hung!” Kelsoe spoke up. “You almost got us all killed back there by the Sioux! I don’t want to hear any more talk about hanging!”
“We have no right even discussing such a thing,” Jason Trent added, putting a gentle and reassuring hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “We call ourselves Christians. Would a Christian stand here and hang a man just on another man’s word, without a chance to defend himself? All I want is a reason, and if it’s good enough, then what this man did five years ago is past. He’s a damned good scout and he’s been honest with us.”
“Was it honest of him to leave out the fact that he’s a wanted man in Tennessee?” Brown retorted. “That he killed eight men a few years back? He could have told us—”
“Why should he?” Bradley Hanes shot back. “Would you go around advertising that you were wanted? Maybe it’s something he’s already atoned for. Maybe it’s just something from his past that he’d rather keep there.”
“He’s a murderer!” Rube Givens growled.
“And so are you, Givens!” Olin Wales roared. “Why don’t you tell these folks how you pumped lead into me one night, left me for dead, and stole my furs!”
There were a few murmurs and whispers, and the preacher stepped forward.
“Let us not forget the topic of this conversation!” he said piously. “One Cheyenne Zeke. The fact remains he is wanted for killing eight men in cold blood, and he has no business leading a train of innocent, Christian people through the wilderness.”
“You would do better to speak like a true minister!” Mrs. Hanes spouted back to him. “I believe Christ taught that he who was without sin could cast the first stone! You should be defending this man through the love of God, not accusing him! And we all know how ‘sinless’ you are, don’t we?” Her eyes blazed. The preacher glared back at her a moment, as though he intended to say more, but he stepped back without speaking. Mrs. Hanes put a hand on Zeke’s arm. “Just tell us why, Zeke,” she asked. “Why did you do such a thing? Not all of us blame you for it. Help us understand.”
As she herself waited anxiously for a reply, the tense silence of the crowd felt like a heavy weight on Abbie’s shoulders.
Zeke stared at Mrs. Hanes for several long seconds.
“It isn’t something a man talks about with ease,” he finally spoke up. “You believe what you want. Most folks have their minds made up about half-breeds, so it wouldn’t do much good to explain it.” He started to walk away, but Mrs. Hanes grasped his arm tighter.
“No, Zeke!” she said sternly. “We hired you believing you to be an honest man and the best guide we could find. You’ve done your job well, and you’ve helped us—even saved my little girl’s life! We’ve trusted all our lives and our belongings to you. You owe us an explanation, and you owe it to yourself. Don’t let people think things about you that are not true.” She searched his eyes, and he looked as though he wanted to speak, but was having trouble getting the words out. She was shocked to see his eyes actually tearing, and he suddenly looked like a lost and frightened boy.
“The men I killed,” he managed to say in a choked voice, “they … raped my wife. They even … tortured her! Cut off her arms and told her she’d never put them around another half-breed again! They cut off her hair and stuffed it in her mouth … and they let her lay there and die slow like that! In horrible pain … and humiliation … bleeding to death!” His breath came in quick gasps, and Abbie’s heart screamed with pity. “And before she died … she watched them murder our little boy! One year old! They … cut off his head!”
People gasped, and tears ran down Abbie’s face.
“Animals!” he roared. “They were nothing but animals! They deserved to suffer! They deserved it! And if I had it to do over, I’d do it again!”
Mrs. Hanes closed her eyes and lowered her head, and Yolanda Brown grasped her stomach, looking ill.
“I found her that way! And my son, too!” he went on, his voice choking with both sorrow and rage. “She was still alive when I got there! And she … managed to live long enough to give me names. All of them were men she’d known all her life! As children they’d even played together!” He suddenly turned and looked straight at Abbie. “That’s the kind of hate being a half-breed can bring! They knew her, yet they did that to her—just because she’d lain with a half-breed—even though he was legally her husband!”
“Zeke—” Abbie choked out, but he whirled and looked at the others again, his voice rising even more, his fury at the memory building.
“I hunted them down—one by one—just like Givens told you!” he shouted. “And I found them! They suffered—like she suffered! One small, helpless young woman against eight men! Eight men, who took turns with her—raping and torturing her! Eight men who murdered a little tiny boy who never hurt anybody and never knew evil! Can anybody here say they deserved to live? Ellen was a good woman—a good woman!”
“But you took the law into your own hands!” Willis Brown shouted. “A man can’t do that!”
“And why not?” Zeke growled. “Do you think the law would h
ave done anything to those men? Why should they back up a half-breed? They wouldn’t do it any more than you would! You already said the Indian gets no justice!”
“The fact remains you’re a half-breed and a wanted man,” Givens sneered. “And you ain’t fit to be leadin’ no wagon train of decent Christian people.”
Zeke turned to face him, and Givens suddenly paled and lost his smile when he saw the look in the Zeke’s eyes. Cheyenne Zeke had been forced to think about his wife, and it brought out a thirst for murder that showed vividly now. Givens suddenly wondered if he’d erred in being the one to open up Zeke’s past before the others.
“You think you did a clever thing tonight, Givens!” Zeke snarled, stepping closer, his hand on the blade of the knife again. “You know I won’t do you in here, you being unarmed and all. But you’ve stirred something in me that makes me not give a damn if I get hung or not! When my wife and son died, a whole lot of me died with them, so I don’t much care! So I’m telling you now to leave—quick. Else I’m going to use this knife on you for what you’ve done—whether you’re armed or not! You get the hell out of here, and this time it’s for sure a promise that if and when I see you again, you’re a dead man! And I’m a man who keeps his word!”