To Shirleen’s horror, he was suddenly dead, his eyes now fixed in a death stare. Fortunately, his gaze was locked on something past her and not on her face. But she suddenly realized that what his eyes were staring at was the least of her worries.
What was she to do?
Would Blue Thunder’s people blame her?
Oh, no!
They couldn’t!
She was only sitting with Dancing Shadow. She had kept her promise to Speckled Fawn. She had not left his side. She had done her best to make his last moments peaceful.
She had sung to him.
She had even held his hand!
Knowing that she had no choice but to reveal his death to everyone, she rose shakily to her feet.
She sucked in a deep breath as she tried to gather enough courage to face whatever lay ahead of her.
Then she went and held the entrance flap aside.
She saw that most people had returned to stand outside Dancing Shadow’s tepee after they had finished their evening meals.
They were staring at her questioningly.
She wondered if they could see the fear on her face?
She wondered if they could see that she was trembling uncontrollably.
She finally gulped out that Dancing Shadow had just taken his last breath of life.
“But . . . but . . . he spoke to me before he died,” she quickly added. “He . . . was happy. He smiled just moments before he died!”
Aunt Bright Sun stepped from the crowd and came to Shirleen. She took Shirleen gently by the elbow and led her back to Blue Thunder’s tepee. All the while, Little Bee followed, hanging on to Bright Sun’s buckskin skirt.
“I have kept Blue Thunder’s fire going in his absence,” Bright Sun said. “Sit beside it. I shall sit with you.”
Little Bee sat between Bright Sun and Shirleen, quietly playing with her doll, oblivious of the loss of Dancing Shadow.
“Shirleen, no one holds you to blame for our loved one’s death,” Bright Sun said reassuringly when she noticed the frightened look in Shirleen’s eyes. She reached over and gently patted her face. “In fact, my people thank you for sitting with Dancing Shadow in the absence of his wife.”
“Thank you for letting me know that,” Shirleen murmured. She wiped tears from her eyes. “I am filled with so many emotions. I am so torn. I feel bad for Dancing Shadow, and I . . . I . . . am in constant fear for my daughter’s welfare. If anything should happen to her—”
“Do not imagine the worst,” Bright Sun said. “When Blue Thunder sets his mind on doing something, he always comes out the victor.”
“I truly hope that is the case this time,” Shirleen said. She sighed heavily and hung her head as tears filled her eyes again. “It is almost too much for me to bear. I shall never forget those last moments with Dancing Shadow.”
She raised her eyes and looked through her tears at Bright Sun. “I . . . can’t help . . . being afraid that something might go awry at the fort and Blue Thunder and Speckled Fawn could be harmed,” she blurted out.
“Blue Thunder is a very wise man, wise past his young years as chief,” Bright Sun again reassured her. “He is his father’s son, and his father was one of the greatest leaders of our Assiniboine people. Blue Thunder’s intelligence and ability as a leader will bring him home to us, along with Speckled Fawn. Your daughter will be with them. I saw it in the clouds today as I looked up at them. The clouds tell me many things. Today they gave me comfort that I wish to pass along to you.”
“Thank you so much for the kind words of encouragement,” Shirleen said, in awe of the woman’s ability to see and know things that surely no one else saw.
Shirleen was discovering that the Assiniboine were a people ruled by mysticism, which brought them faith and guidance in their everyday lives.
Shirleen looked down at Little Bee as she crawled trustingly onto her lap. As the child leaned her cheek against Shirleen’s bosom, Little Bee fell asleep.
The innocent action of the little girl made Shirleen ache even more to have her own daughter with her.
She became suddenly aware of drums pounding out a dirge outside the tepee; people’s voices blended as they began openly mourning their departed loved one.
She now felt blessed for those few last moments with a man whom so many had loved. In that short time while he was awake and smiling at her, he had shown her just why he was so beloved by his Assiniboine people!
She no longer felt afraid that she would somehow be blamed for his death. She now knew that these people saw something mystical even in death.
She hoped that she, too, would react to the world in the way of these wonderful people when she became the wife of their young chief.
The thought of becoming Blue Thunder’s wife made her time awaiting his return bearable.
When he came back to the village, she had no doubt that he would have Megan with him!
Chapter Twenty-four
Who is this happy warrior?
Who is he that every man in arms
Should wish to be?
—Wordsworth
Speckled Fawn still pretended to stumble as she was taken to a cabin by two soldiers. It was scarcely furnished and . . . there were bars on its only window.
The bars made her heart skip a beat as she was led to the small bed beneath the window.
Had she stepped into a trap? Had the colonel of this fort discovered what she had come for?
Had someone been spying on Blue Thunder and his warriors?
If so, had she been seen with them?
Now she feared not only for herself, but also for Blue Thunder and those brave warriors with him.
Perhaps even now the soldiers were with Blue Thunder, arresting or killing him for making plans against a white settler.
“Please excuse us for bringing you here. There is no other available lodging,” a soldier with brilliant red hair said as he helped Speckled Fawn down to the cot, which had a mattress on it but nothing more. “You will be brought clean sheets, a basin of water, and a clean dress. My wife will bring you one to wear. She is the same size as you, so the dress should fit you well enough.”
It was as though a fresh breeze of air had swept into the room. Speckled Fawn realized that her immediate fears were unfounded. She was not being arrested.
“I appreciate what you are doing for me,” Speckled Fawn said, easing herself down onto the mattress and trying to ignore the smell of urine on it. She hated to imagine just who had slept on it, for surely the worst of criminals were brought to this cell until they were taken elsewhere for their punishment.
If she had been captured years ago when she was on the run after stabbing a rapist to death, she could have been made to stay in such a desolate, stinking cabin.
As it was, she would not even spend a full night there. As soon as she managed to get the child, she would flee into the night.
“My name’s Jack. What’s yours?” the redhaired man asked, looking intently at her.
For a moment a chill rushed down Speckled Fawn’s spine.
This man was looking at her so carefully, as though he were studying her features. Did it mean that he remembered her from somewhere . . . perhaps a Wanted poster?
But she scoffed at that idea. She had seen one of the posters, and the drawing had been nothing like the way she actually looked.
And she had gained quite a bit of weight since those horrible, hungry days when she would often go more than two days without food.
“My name?” she asked, looking Jack squarely in the eye, her fear of what he might be thinking gone.
“Judith Bowen,” she said, quickly inventing a false name. “My name is Judith Bowen.” She pretended sadness by lowering her eyes. “My husband’s name was . . . Timothy. My sweet daughter’s was Priscilla.”
She covered her face with her hands as she faked a deep, anguished sob behind them. “Lord, oh, Lord, I have lost everything,” she cried. “My husband. My daughter! My . . . home!”<
br />
A rush of feet into the cabin made Speckled Fawn peek between her fingers. She saw a woman about the same size as she. Her face was pale, her hair wrapped in a tight chignon atop her head.
“Come on in, Darla Jane,” Jack said.
“My, oh my,” Darla Jane said as she rushed to Speckled Fawn with a dress hanging across her arm.
Moments after she arrived, another woman came into the cabin, carrying a basin of water.
“Jack, you and George can leave now,” Darla Jane said, standing on tiptoe to brush a quick kiss across Jack’s face. “Clara Belle and I will take care of the woman’s needs. You go on and attend to your duties.”
“Her name is Judith Bowen,” Jack said over his shoulder as he and George turned and hurried to the door. “She’s had a terrible experience. Help her, darlin’, as you know how to help.”
“I shall,” Darla Jane said, then knelt down beside Speckled Fawn. “My dear, I am so sorry for your losses. But things will get better. I’ve seen it countless times since my husband joined the cavalry. Those awful Indians. Tsk, tsk. All savages. Every one of them redskins is a butchering savage. They should all be hanged for their crimes against humanity.”
The woman’s harsh opinion of Indians made it hard for Speckled Fawn to just lie there, listening to such condemnation of a people who had gotten a raw deal because of the greed and insensitivity of white leaders.
Speckled Fawn could hardly wait to leave this place, to be with her family of Indians again.
Just being there at the fort, with people who were so blind to the realities of life out West, was making her feel sick to her stomach.
Yes, she did see the Comanche renegades as savages, for they were responsible for terrible cruelty, and others with red skin were suffering the consequences of their attacks on settlers.
“I appreciate all of your kindnesses,” Speckled Fawn forced herself to say as she slowly sat up on the bed.
She looked past the two women who were already there at a tiny, pretty, older woman who was just entering with an armload of bedding.
“What did you say your name was?” Darla Jane asked as she handed the dress to Speckled Fawn.
Speckled Fawn panicked, for she had forgotten her pretend name.
Then it came to her, and she heaved a deep sigh. “Judith,” she said. “Judith Bowen.”
“What a lovely name,” the older woman said as she came and laid the linens on the bed beside Speckled Fawn. “Mine is Hannah. Hannah Cline. My husband is the colonel at this fort.” She smiled. “Well, at least for now. I would hate to tell you how many different forts I have made my home in. Just as we get settled in, my Harold is sent somewhere else.”
“It mustn’t be the best way to live,” Speckled Fawn said, trying to keep up her end of the conversation when all she really wanted was to be left alone until night drew its dark cloak over the fort. By then she hoped to have stolen little Megan away from her father and she could flee past the sentries at the front gate.
“I hope I’m allowed to stay until a riverboat comes that can take me back to civilization. I can’t bear to stay in this wild and reckless land,” Speckled Fawn said. She looked slowly from one woman to the next. “Do you think that is possible? Or am I going to be taken elsewhere, perhaps another fort?”
“My dear, a riverboat is expected very soon, and my husband will gladly pay your passage anywhere you wish to go,” Hannah said, reaching down and gently shoving a fallen lock of hair back from Speckled Fawn’s eyes. “All you have to do is name a city and your way will be paid to that destination.”
“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness,” Speckled Fawn said, taking Hannah’s hand and gently holding it. “You are so very, very kind.”
She clung to the hand, pretending it gave her a measure of comfort, as she again lowered her eyes and elaborated on her fictitious story. “I was alone in my cabin with my husband and child,” she sobbed out. “Renegades came and killed my husband and daughter. They took me captive.”
She looked slowly up at the women. “While the renegades slept, I . . . I . . . managed to escape,” she said. “Somehow I managed to get to this fort. Thank the Lord, I was taken in. By the grace of God, I hope to begin a new life and put this all behind me. But it will be hard. I shall find it so hard to forget my husband and daughter’s murder.”
“We are so very sorry for all that you have been forced to endure,” Hannah said, sighing heavily. “We’ve brought you clean clothes, bathwater, and we shall bring you food soon. Is there anything else you might want?”
“Yes, there is,” Speckled Fawn said, her pulse racing, for she knew her request was going to widen these women’s eyes.
But she must ask, or her plan would never work.
“What is it, dear, and it is yours,” Hannah said. She gently placed a hand on Speckled Fawn’s cheek, although she visibly shuddered at touching such a dirty face.
“Could you please bring me a bottle of whiskey?” Speckled Fawn blurted out, amused to see how that suggestion affected the women.
Utterly shocked, the women gasped, almost in unison.
“You see,” Speckled Fawn hurried on to say, “I’m not normally a drinker, but I need to find a way to help me forget what I witnessed. The blood . . . the screams.”
The women turned pale and looked questioningly at each other.
“Truly, I don’t know how else to erase the awful memories of my child and husband being slaughtered,” Speckled Fawn said, wiping false tears. “Please understand I have been raised by the Bible’s teachings and taught that alcohol is a sin. But at times like this—”
“We understand,” Hannah said, interrupting Speckled Fawn. “Judith, if you feel that alcohol will help you sleep tonight, you shall have your whiskey. I can see how it might help.” She smiled sheepishly. “I must admit that I sneak a tiny sip of whiskey from time to time, to help ease my qualms about some of the ungodly things my husband has been forced to do by his career. I shall bring you my own personal silver flask for you to sip from, but I would like the flask back in the morning.”
Speckled Fawn was finding it amusing to see how shocked the two other women were by what Hannah had admitted about her drinking.
They continued to stare at her, their eyes wide, their faces now flushed rather than pale, at the knowledge that a woman of such high standing as Hannah Cline would drink such a foul thing as whiskey.
“I do thank you again for your kindness to me,” Speckled Fawn said, then hung her head. “I would like to be alone now. I . . . I . . . would like to bathe, change my clothes, then rest.”
She looked hurriedly up at Hannah. “Please bring the whiskey soon, for I am tormented by hideous visions, images that will haunt me for the rest of my life,” she said, swallowing hard. “At least for tonight the whiskey can help erase such thoughts. Please bring it soon, Hannah. Please?”
“Wait and bathe after I get the whiskey, for I shall run and fetch it right now,” Hannah said, turning and walking briskly to the door. She stopped and turned and looked at the women. “I believe I can trust you to keep my little secret to yourselves?”
The women nodded, assuring their silence.
“Thank you,” Hannah murmured. “Now I think this woman needs her privacy, don’t you?”
The women nodded and brushed past her; then Hannah gave Speckled Fawn another smile over her shoulder and left as well.
Speckled Fawn laughed to herself, then knelt on the bed so she could gaze through the window at the cabin that she knew was occupied by Shirleen’s husband. Its whereabouts had been explained carefully to her by the warrior who had followed Earl and his daughter earlier.
It was growing dark outside now, and she could see lamplight at the other cabin window.
She flinched when she saw a man silhouetted by the light. She knew it was Earl.
Then she felt her heart fill with love when she saw a child, and knew that she was looking at Shirleen’s daughter.
“I
will come for you soon, my darling,” Speckled Fawn whispered, then felt the color drain from her face as she heard someone move up behind her in the cabin.
She turned, pale, and found herself gazing directly into Hannah Cline’s eyes.
“What were you saying?” Hannah asked, holding a silver flask hidden beneath the end of her lacy shawl. “I am half deaf. Did you hear me come into the cabin? Were you saying something to me?”
A rush of relief flooded Speckled Fawn’s senses. The words she had spoken to herself out loud had not been understood.
“I was saying a prayer,” Speckled Fawn said, leaving the bed and standing beside Hannah. “I saw the first star of the evening shining brightly overhead. You know, the one that comes before total darkness falls.”
“Yes, I know,” Hannah said, slowly slipping the flask from beneath her shawl. “Here. Take it. But do not let any of the soldiers see it. My husband has no idea that I drink. A friend of mine steals the liquor from her husband’s liquor cabinet and shares it with me.”
Hannah giggled. “I have no idea how she explains the loss of the whiskey to her husband,” she said. “Perhaps he accepts her pastime of drinking. Mine never would. He is too proud a man. He would never tolerate my doing something that he himself detests.”
“I shall be very careful,” Speckled Fawn said, taking the flask from Hannah. “I would never tell anyone who gave this to me. I just hope those two women who came with you will truly keep your secret.”
“I am the wife of a powerful colonel. If those women know what’s best for them and their husbands, they will keep their mouths shut,” Hannah said tightly.
Then she quickly added. “Just don’t you get caught.”
“You can trust me,” Speckled Fawn said. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I shall leave you now,” Hannah said. “Food will be brought soon.”
“Hannah, please don’t bring me any food, or allow anyone else to,” Speckled Fawn said. “My stomach would not tolerate food right now. I shall wait for breakfast, if that is alright with you.”
“But whiskey should not be consumed on an empty stomach,” Hannah protested.
Savage Skies Page 15
