Journey of the Heart

by Mills, DiAnn; Darty, Peggy;

  Desert Fawn and Katie reminisced about the past and repeated stories about Katie as a child. She did not mention life at Fort Davis. She should forget all of it, but isn’t that what she told herself when she arrived at the fort? The two laughed and talked. They mourned Pa.

  “Lone Eagle is a brave warrior,” Desert Fawn said. “He is fearless in leading warriors against the whites. Jeremiah should not have told you to return to them. You could have died with all the whites.”

  Her stomach whirled. “Yes, Lone Eagle is a brave warrior.”

  “Are you now afraid of him?”

  “A woman should always fear her husband,” Katie said, and nothing more was said.

  That evening as the two sat around the fire warming themselves, Katie felt an urgency to talk to Desert Fawn about God.

  “I have learned many things about the Great Spirit,” Katie said. “Not the god of the sun, mother earth, or the moon, but the one and only Great Spirit.”

  Desert Fawn tilted her head and leaned closer to hear Katie’s words.

  “The Great Spirit loves all of us, and He wants us to live in peace. He loves us so much that He sent His only Son to teach us the ways of love and how to live in peace. The people of earth did not want to learn these things. They wanted to be warriors and grew angry with the Great Spirit’s Son. They plotted and killed Him, but they did not know the Great Spirit had planned for His Son to die for their evil ways. After three days, the Great Spirit raised His Son from the dead to show all people of His love and power. The Great Spirit said, ‘All who believe My Son died and rose again to life will live with Me forever.’ ”

  “Ah, the Habbe Weich-ket death song.” The old woman sang softly. “How great his people were. How great a patriot he was. How he loved his country and his people. How he fought for them with no thought of the Happy Hunting Ground until his people thought of it for him.”

  Desert Fawn understood a little of what she was trying to explain. Comanches did not concern themselves about death until it happened. It would take more than one meeting for her dear friend to understand the Almighty God, and the thought of peace among the Indians would crumble the strongest Comanche. Katie wished she had her Bible. Her own instructions had barely begun, and there were many things she didn’t know.

  The day of her ritual bathing came. Unlike the previous days of bleak, gray clouds, the sun shone and shimmered upon the water. Katie stepped into the cold river. Its frigid temperatures took her breath away, and she was certain her heart had stopped beating. She hurried through the task while her body numbed in the cold. For a moment Katie considered the irony of catching pneumonia and facing death. She’d much prefer death than marriage to Lone Eagle.

  Wrapped in a thick blanket, Katie sat upon the riverbank and watched the ripples break across the water. It felt strange to be clothed in the pale yellow deerskin again, and the winter boots lined with buffalo fur warmed her icy toes. Yet the softness and scent of her Comanche clothes brought back a happier time when she shared a teepee with Pa and Desert Fawn.

  She used her fingers to comb through the wet tresses; then she braided her hair in one long braid. Her thoughts drifted to those near to her heart and especially for those she would never see again.

  She didn’t want to be an emotionless woman. If her life was to be there, then she must find joy in small things. She must do everything possible to be a good wife to Lone Eagle—not just cook and do chores or bear his children but devote her life to making his days happy. She didn’t have to agree with what he did or dwell upon what could have been with Peyton. God walked with her, and she was not alone.

  Taking a deep breath, Katie reluctantly stood. The day would proceed as planned with or without her approval. She needed to collect firewood and prepare food for Lone Eagle’s evening meal. A delay set the evening for his anger toward her to worsen.

  She sensed someone’s presence. It sent chills up her spine to think a warrior had watched while she bathed. She turned to see a familiar figure standing in the brush behind her.

  “Lone Eagle,” Katie said. “I didn’t see you.”

  The Comanche strode alongside her. “I haven’t been here long. Desert Fawn told me you were at the river.”

  “I am returning to your teepee today.” She observed him closely for signs of hostility, but he appeared calm.

  He nodded, and his gaze passed by her and onto the river.

  She carefully chose her words. Fright did strange things to a woman. “I meant what I said to you before—I’ll never try to leave you, and I will do my best to be a good wife.”

  His gaze rested upon her face. It took all her courage to stare into his ebony eyes, but she feared condemnation by avoiding him. Better she show bravery than shy away like a coward.

  “Sit beside me,” he said. “We haven’t talked for many months.”

  Katie shifted the blanket around her and resumed her position on the riverbank. Her heart beat so fiercely that she felt certain he heard it pounding.

  “I never thought you wouldn’t want to come back,” Lone Eagle said. “And I never thought I would see fear in your eyes. The white man has turned you against the Comanche, for now you see me as the enemy.”

  She rejected the urge to lie. Lone Eagle would read the deceit and despise, punish her for it.

  “While I waited, you chose a white soldier to take my place. You planned to have two husbands,” he said. “My anger against you and all the whites could not be satisfied. I wanted you dead. I wanted to cut out your heart for what you had done to me.”

  He sat stoic, the pace of his breathing proving she’d provoked his temper. “My father told me about your promise to Jeremiah, but it didn’t matter,” Lone Eagle continued. “He had accepted the gifts of many fine horses. Why did he ask you to leave?”

  His words were demanding, and Katie’s refusal to answer the warrior only invited punishment.

  “I didn’t know then, either.” She breathed a prayer for help. “It took some time for me to understand and accept what he wanted for me. Please believe me when I say I didn’t want to leave here. My heart belonged to you and no one else. I wanted the people at the fort to send me away—back to you. Instead, Pa’s brother and his wife welcomed me into their home. They loved and took care of me. Neither one of them criticized me for living among the Comanches. They accepted me as one of their own.”

  “You are Jeremiah Colter’s daughter and Lone Eagle’s wife, a Comanche.” His voice rose.

  Katie sighed heavily. “No, I am not Jeremiah Colter’s daughter. I found out he wasn’t my father. His brother is my real father. I’m certain that is why he made me promise to return to Fort Davis. He wanted me to be with my true father.”

  “And you did not know about this?” His harsh tone cut through the air.

  “No,” she whispered. “It was very difficult for me to hear those words and forgive them.”

  “Is this why you agreed to marry the white soldier?” Lone Eagle said.

  Lone Eagle could very well be sympathetic to her if he thought she agreed to marry Peyton out of unhappiness. Her reply determined her future, her life. It looked tempting…. “No, I agreed to marry before I found out about my parents.”

  He stiffened, and she braced herself for him to strike her.

  “You could have lied to me,” he said. “You know the penalty for an unfaithful wife.”

  “I did not consider myself your wife because we had not lived together. I knew what it meant when Jeremiah accepted your gifts, but I returned them to you.”

  “Your actions didn’t change our arrangement,” Lone Eagle said.

  Lone Eagle could have her killed, mutilated, or the tip of her nose cut off. He could do anything because she was his chattel. Her hope lay in the fact that he owned her. Would Lone Eagle want to destroy his own property? The answer came from the many past deliberations about her relationship with the Comanche warrior. He had to maintain his pride and honor among the tribe. The other Comanches re
spected his position, but it was up to Lone Eagle to keep it.

  Katie didn’t like surprises. She desperately needed to know the warrior’s intentions. Lone Eagle must have decided her fate, or he wouldn’t have sought her out.

  “What are you going to do with me?” She again fought the trembling in her body. Did he plan to punish her there by the river?

  His hardened features told her nothing. His eyes stayed fixed on the water gurgling peacefully. The warrior stood, and she instantly rose beside him.

  “I want to kill you,” Lone Eagle said, glaring straight into her eyes. “Every white man, woman, and child I killed held your face. Their screams became your screams. Their blood became your blood. I watched them suffer through torture after torture, wishing they were you. Do you think I want you to live?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sun parted the clouds of winter and seemingly mocked Katie’s anxiety as she viewed its slow descent. The hours moved by swiftly, yet not quickly enough. Let the evening come soon but not too soon. Confusion twisted and turned her thoughts and emotions. Terror danced across her mind as though Lone Eagle’s hatred pressed into what the night might hold. Agonizing turmoil erupted again, pushing her further into a state of panic. Hopelessness. Reality.

  If Lone Eagle planned to kill her through some hideous means, then why had he waited to make it known? Did his satisfaction come in devising the torture to make her pay for leaving him? Stories about tortured victims repeated until each accounting sounded like the last, and all the tales rolled into one. Visions of the Lawrence family focused before her eyes. The scent of blood-soaked bodies filled the air, and she knew not where the stench came from. Cries of terror echoed all around, calling out her name to join the spirits of the dead.

  Waiting produced its own gruesome nightmare.

  Katie hugged Desert Fawn close to her and said good-bye. The old woman asked her to visit often, and Katie agreed. She couldn’t tell this precious woman of Lone Eagle’s words. Desert Fawn could do nothing, and Katie refused to alarm her.

  As she expected, Lone Eagle’s teepee stood cold and empty. He had not said when he would be returning, and she feared too much to ask. Gathering firewood and preparing food for him kept her hands busy but not her mind.

  Her thoughts drifted back to a time soon after Mary’s death. She and Pa had worked since sunup packing their belongings for the journey to the Comanche village. As he sorted through the last of the things they needed, she had ventured into the garden to search for any remaining vegetables. She’d finished one row and started another when the distinct hissing of a rattler met her ears. Panic seized her, and she couldn’t move or speak. Holding on to a cornstalk, she watched the snake coil and poise to strike. In the flash of an instant, a knife pierced the rattler’s head, ending its deadly mission. Pa grabbed her and held her tightly.

  “How did you know to come, Pa?” Katie had said.

  He looked at her strangely. “I heard you call for help, child.”

  “No, Pa. I was too scared to talk or move.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes and shook his head, incredulous of what had happened.

  Now Katie felt the familiar tug at her heart, missing him. He couldn’t protect her now. No one could. Not Papa or her dear Peyton. She pushed aside the recollection. Like so many times in the last days, her faith wavered. Unbelief whispered taunting words to a mind desperately needing something to grasp. Her senses became cold and numb, yet did she hear a faint whisper?

  “Trust Me, Katie.”

  Evening shadows had stolen away the reflections of late afternoon when Lone Eagle arrived at the teepee. Wordlessly he peered down at her with no expression of anger or hatred. She met his scrutiny by challenging him with her own unemotional stare. Once, her greatest fear of Lone Eagle rested on living the rest of her life as his wife. That same fear became her one hope when he disclosed his passion to kill her. Now she waited for him to choose in which manner she should die.

  He moved with confidence and power, reminding her of a mountain cat cautiously picking its way across a canyon wall. Beneath his heavy buffalo robe dwelled a mass of defined muscle and trained nerves ever alert to kill at a moment’s notice. She wanted to deny any memories of loving this man. Even at this moment fear took precedence over hatred. He removed the robe and sat beside the fire. She sat back from the blaze while he ate the quail, pecans, and dried berries that she’d roasted for him.

  Odd and peculiar thoughts floated through her mind as she focused her attention on a burning log. Why hadn’t she used a knife on herself? Ultimately, she would have denied him the pleasure of watching her die. Weary of the waiting and anxious to be free of the unknown, she felt a surge of courage to step into the black haze of his mind.

  Katie breathed a quick prayer. “What are you going to do with me?”

  His whole body appeared to respond to her words. He placed the food on the dirt floor and pulled out his knife. It glittered wickedly in the firelight. How many other victims had fallen under his blade?

  “Why do you not fear me?” Lone Eagle turned the knife over in his hand.

  “I am afraid. But in death there is life.”

  “Your words make no sense.”

  “I have a God who will take my spirit with Him to live forever,” she said. “I cannot fight you. I cannot resist you. I can only draw strength from my God to endure whatever you choose to do.”

  “You speak white man’s words.”

  “No. These words are for all people. God loves us all and longs to save us all from the evil in our hearts.”

  Lone Eagle shoved her against the dirt floor. He jumped to his feet and threw the knife, snaring the sleeve of her garment to the ground. He stormed from the teepee.

  She pulled the knife from her sleeve. Bewildered by Lone Eagle’s actions, she laid the weapon by his unfinished food. He wants to kill me, but something is stopping him. Has he enjoyed the hunt for so long that my capture is disappointing? How long will this go on?

  Long after the village rested quietly and the sounds of darkness cradled the night creatures, she listened for Lone Eagle to return. Exhausted, she lay beneath the buffalo robes too tired to weep or think. Her body relaxed and she slept.

  She woke with the early morning sounds of singing birds and busy insects. A faint trickle of dawn filtered in through the teepee opening, and she smelled the aroma of a freshly built fire. Lone Eagle had returned and didn’t waken her. God had delivered her one more time from certain death.

  When she reflected upon the last week, God had protected her since Lone Eagle pulled her from the racing horse.

  Her gaze rested upon the place where she had set Lone Eagle’s knife. It was gone as well as the food. She didn’t understand the warrior’s behavior, but before she could further deliberate on all the unusual happenings since Lone Eagle brought her to the village, he stepped inside.

  “We’re leaving,” he said. “The horses are ready.”

  Katie instantly obeyed. With a hint of sleep still dulling her senses, she wrapped a buffalo robe around her and followed him outside. The cold, crisp air against her face alerted her senses to the early morning confusion.

  Within moments the two rode from the Comanche village and headed south. At one point, she started to ask him where they were going, except she thought better of it. The warrior would unfold his plans as he saw fit, and she didn’t want to displease him.

  Under any other circumstances, Katie would have reveled in the beauty of sunrise. Behind a backdrop of towering mountains, the sun emerged, pulling purple and orange banners from a navy blue sky. She smiled at the scene spreading color and light to a sleepy world. Lone Eagle’s gaze studied her. She felt it, but she ignored him. Best now she pray and concern herself with him later.

  The two stopped beside a narrow stream to refresh themselves and their horses. Katie kneeled beside the water and cupped her hands to drink. She hadn’t eaten the day before, and the cool water helped fill the gna
wing in her stomach. Again she felt Lone Eagle’s eyes boring into her. This time she took a deep breath and boldly met his ebony eyes. Perhaps it was the serenity of a new day or the knowledge they were the only two people for miles around, but a trace of tenderness met her. It shocked her. That quickly, he concealed his vulnerability and ordered her back on the spotted horse.

  They rode another hour until she saw the ridge where she and Peyton first viewed the Comanche warriors. What was Lone Eagle planning?

  He brought his horse to a halt, and she did also.

  “You can ride the rest of the way by yourself,” he said.

  “Are you letting me go?” Did she dare believe him?

  “Yes. I owe Jeremiah Colter this one favor, even if you are not his daughter. I still want to kill you, but the spirits won’t let me. I’ve been tormented since this place.” Lone Eagle pointed to the land around them. “You are my wife and my enemy, and I will free you this one time to return to your people and the white soldier.”

  It was God who’d interrupted his plans, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

  “Lone Eagle, we aren’t enemies. Two people who loved each other can’t be enemies.”

  “You don’t know the ways of men and war,” he said. “I will never spare you again. Now go.”

  She wanted to say more, but she chose to heed his words and urged the horse south toward Fort Davis.

  The sun played in and out of the clouds, first bringing light and warmth then casting a dismal shade of gray. Katie paid no mind to the weather because her heart and mind sang praises to the God who delivered her. When she reflected upon the miracles since her abduction, they brought tears to her eyes. She wondered how many others had been praying for her. She asked for forgiveness in doubting Him and not having the courage to tell Lone Eagle who had stopped him from killing her.

  Peyton was alive! Lone Eagle told her to return to the white soldier. He hadn’t been killed but had ridden to safety among the soldiers. Had Peyton believed she died also? What would he feel now that she’d been set free? After a week’s time, he might not welcome her as before. He might think the worst. Katie shuddered, contemplating the hideous tortures Lone Eagle could have inflicted. But he hadn’t, and to some folks her unharmed body might indicate she had submitted to other things. She’d let them think whatever they chose. She knew the truth. The only persons who deserved to know what happened were Peyton, Papa, and Elizabeth, and she planned to tell them everything.