Savage Arrow

by Cassie Edwards

  “But where . . . how?” Lee-Lee asked, too stunned to move.

  “We are going where Reginald Vineyard would not dare go,” Jade said tightly. “It will be a perfect place to hide from him, Lee-Lee. Perfect.”

  “But where?” Lee-Lee implored. “No place is safe from him, especially once he finds us both gone.”

  “We are going to the cave that Reginald has nightmares about every night,” Jade said, smiling in satisfaction at Lee-Lee. “It is a perfect hiding place because Reginald would never dare go there. To him it is cursed. The Indian spirits that dwell within haunt him.”

  Lee-Lee took a quick step away from her mother. Fear entered her eyes. “Mother, if we go there, will not the Indian spirits also frighten us?”

  “Nay because, sweet daughter, we have done nothing to harm them, or the Sioux people whose departed chiefs are buried there,” Jade said, stepping up to Lee-Lee and again pulling her into her arms. She hugged her tightly. “Daughter, it is the only place we can go where we will be safe from Reginald Vineyard’s evil.”

  Lee-Lee clung for a moment, then stepped away from her mother. “And . . . then . . . what, Mother?” she asked, her eyes searching Jade’s.

  “We will wait for a while, then go to the Indian village,” Jade said softly. “They are a kind band of Indians, and that’s where Jessie has gone.”

  “Jessie?” Lee-Lee asked, raising an eyebrow. “Who is Jessie?”

  “I will tell you all about her once we reach the cave,” Jade said, eyeing the basket of food that she had brought.

  She grabbed it up and nodded at Lee-Lee. “Get the clothes you want to take with you,” she said. “Hurry, Lee-Lee. The longer we are here, the more likely someone will come and see what I am up to.”

  Lee-Lee nodded and rolled some of her clothes in a towel as Jade took the food back to the wagon and quickly covered it with a blanket.

  She had only taken it in the first place to provide an excuse for her visit in case someone spied her.

  When no one had come down the alley, or from the other cribs, she felt safe enough to return the food to the wagon; it was what she and her daughter would exist on for the next couple of weeks.

  They would have to wait at least that long to venture out again. After that period of time, Reginald would no longer be looking for her or Lee-Lee.

  Jade hurried back inside the crib. She grabbed the rolled-up clothes, then gave Lee-Lee a quick glance. She saw that her daughter was dressed and ready. She nodded at her.

  “Come on, daughter, but hurry,” she said. “And when we reach the wagon, Lee-Lee, hide beneath the blankets. That is the only way I can take you from Tombstone without someone seeing you.”

  After Lee-Lee was safely hidden in the back of the wagon, Jade climbed aboard and drove away from the cribs. As she traveled down the main street, she was glad that there were no men loitering on the boardwalk or gambling in the saloons. The town had a peaceful air about it, even decent.

  But soon that would all change. Soon men would be drinking and gambling and choosing pretty women to give them pleasure.

  Jade smiled, for today no one could choose Lee-Lee.

  She rode onward, traveled far from the town and into a forest of trees, only stopping when they were far from where any passersby could see the wagon.

  “Lee-Lee,” Jade said, climbing down from the wagon. “It is safe now for you to leave the wagon. We’re close enough to the cave to walk the rest of the way.”

  “Mother, how do you know?” Lee-Lee asked, throwing aside the blanket and climbing out of the wagon.

  “I have seen the cave before,” Jade said, rolling up the blanket that had covered Lee-Lee, then handing it to her. “It suddenly came to me that the cave could be a perfect hideaway,” Jade said, taking the basket of supplies from the wagon.

  Lee-Lee grabbed her clothes and as many blankets as she could carry.

  “How far, Mother?” Lee-Lee asked as Jade started walking away from the wagon with Lee-Lee close beside her. She looked over her shoulder at the horse and wagon, then questioned her mother with her eyes. “And what about the horse? Will it be alright?”

  Jade stopped abruptly. She looked over her shoulder at the horse, then set her supplies down and hurried back to the animal. She quickly released it from the wagon, then patted its rump and watched it run away, glad to see it ran in the opposite direction from Reginald’s house. She hoped it would find its way to the Indian village, where it could be fed and have a good home.

  She hurried back to Lee-Lee and resumed their walk toward the cave. “I think the horse will be alright now,” she murmured. “As for the wagon? I only hope that Reginald doesn’t happen along and find it, but I doubt that he will. It’s way too close to the cave that haunts him.

  “And we do not have much farther to go, Lee-Lee, to get to the cave,” she said, glancing down at the basket of supplies. She had made certain there was enough food, water, and even matches to last them for the two weeks she planned to be in the cave.

  And Lee-Lee was carrying the blankets.

  Ai, it did seem that she had planned everything well enough. She was beginning to believe she would pull off their escape.

  But she could see that Lee-Lee was very uneasy. She could see fear in her daughter’s eyes, in the way she kept looking over her shoulder as though expecting to get caught.

  “Daughter, we are safe,” Jade said reassuringly.

  “I am so afraid of Reginald, and I am also afraid of . . . of . . . the cave and . . . what might be in there,” Lee-Lee murmured.

  “Sweet daughter, you have to learn never to be afraid again, of anything,” Jade said. “It is a cruel, complicated world, but we will make a new beginning. You shall see. Only goodness lies ahead for us both.” She swallowed hard. “I should not have waited so long to do this.”

  Lee-Lee gave Jade a faint, quivering smile.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Panting and wheezing, and mopping his brow with his handkerchief, Reginald walked onward. He had left his horse and buggy a mile back. He was trying a different tactic today. He was trying to elude all the sentries so that he could get into the village.

  He was determined to get the young chief’s attention. Surely Thunder Horse would take pity on him once he heard about the horrible nights that Reginald was having.

  Surely the Sioux chief would have mercy. He had had enough nightmares already to last him a lifetime.

  Reginald had watched carefully as he walked, keeping an eye out for sentries who would surely stop him. Thus far he had managed to stay hidden among the trees.

  He wheezed and coughed into his handkerchief, hoping that he could stifle the sounds as he drew near the village. Only moments ago he had caught a glimpse of tepees, and even now he smelled the smoke from the lodge fires, so he knew that he had almost succeeded with his plan.

  But he was ungodly tired. He wasn’t used to walking this far. His legs were feeling rubbery and weak.

  He wasn’t certain he could make it back to his horse and buggy. Again he hoped the savages would have some mercy and take him back to the buggy on horseback instead of making him walk all the way.

  His lungs ached as if they were on fire from the effort it took to place one foot and then the other forward.

  Again he wiped the sweat that was pouring from his brow. His hair was wet with perspiration, dripping onto his expensive suit jacket.

  “You damn savages,” he whispered as he doubled a hand at his side in anger and humiliation. No one had ever seen him as disheveled as he must look now.

  But he had only a short way to go before he would finally step into the village. He had succeeded in tricking them into receiving him.

  Now if only they would let him talk. If only they would listen to reason.

  He even had his pockets filled with coins. Money spoke volumes to poor people. And he saw the Sioux as poor. How else could anyone see a people who lived in tepees and who cooked over open fires inside small lo
dges?

  Yes, coins might be the answer today where words had not worked. And today he would surely be able to talk to the chief.

  Panting, and wiping more sweat from his face, hoping to look as presentable as possible, he stepped up to the very edge of the village. He was stunned that even now no one noticed him there.

  He stopped and gazed slowly around him. The women were busy preparing meat. The children were laughing and playing games. The elders were sitting around an outside fire, smoking their long pipes and talking.

  And then something else caught his eye, someone who made his heart skip a beat. It was Jessie! She had just stepped inside a tepee not far from where he stood, and she was dressed as a squaw, her hair hanging down her back in one long braid.

  Stunned at the sight of her, for he had never thought in a thousand years to look for her in an Indian village, Reginald could not stop a sudden bout of terribly loud wheezing. He began coughing so hard, he felt as though he might strangle.

  He grabbed at his throat, the handkerchief falling to the ground at his feet.

  Finally he got some control of his coughing. He bent and started to retrieve his handkerchief from the ground. Just as he did, he saw moccasins step up before him and knew that his coughing had caught someone’s attention.

  Almost afraid to straighten his back and see who was there, Reginald breathed hard and stayed bent for a moment longer, just staring at the moccasins.

  But when a hand fell upon his shoulder and a voice spoke, telling him to stand up, he knew that he had no choice but to look upon the face of whoever had discovered him standing there.

  Breathing hard, his heart thumping wildly, Reginald straightened his back and found himself gazing up into the dark, stern eyes of none other than the young chief.

  “Chief Thunder Horse,” he said, hating the trembling in his voice. He was very aware of the heaviness of that large, copper hand on his shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?” Thunder Horse asked, his voice stern, his anger obvious. “And where is your horse?”

  “I . . . I . . . left my horse and buggy back yonder,” Reginald breathed out, pointing.

  “Why?” Thunder Horse asked, his eyes narrowing angrily. “And again, what are you doing here? You know that you are not welcome on our land.”

  “It doesn’t belong to you anymore and you know it,” Reginald said quickly, then wished he had not spoken.

  But he didn’t like hearing the savage claim something that was not his. It was only out of the kindness of the president that these savages were still in this area on land that belonged to the United States. Personally, he could not wait to see the last of this pack of wild, flea-covered savages.

  He wanted to scream out that his cousin had no place among such savages, to demand to know why she was there in the first place. Had she been abducted?

  Oh, surely she hadn’t come here of her own volition.

  Would she have truly chosen this sort of life over what he had offered her?

  He cursed himself silently over having forbidden her to play the piano, for it seemed his reaction to her playing had precipitated her departure.

  But he couldn’t mention Jessie to this savage, for to do so would be to tip his hand . . . to reveal that he was trying to find a way to claim her again as his!

  Thunder Horse found it unbelievable that this tiny, sweating man could stand before him and speak so coldly about whom this land did or did not belong to. Thunder Horse wanted this man out of his village. He couldn’t stand the smell of him, or the sight!

  “You still have not said why you are here, or why you chose to walk instead of ride into my village,” Thunder Horse said dryly.

  “I walked because I wanted to get into the village instead of being stopped as I was last night when I tried to come and talk with you,” Reginald gulped out. “If I came in my buggy, it would have made too much noise. I felt that once I got inside your village, I would be able to get a few moments of your time to plead my case.”

  “And that is?” Thunder Horse asked, stunned to learn that this man had came last night to try to speak with him and no one had told him about it.

  He was also surprised that this man had been able to elude his sentries. He had sneaked through the forest, where the trees were thick and the shadows dark. Thunder Horse had to correct this weakness in his defenses by making certain his sentries were placed among the trees, too.

  “Thunder Horse, may I go to your lodge with you, where I can sit down while we discuss my situation?” Reginald asked, his eyes pleading through the thick lenses of his glasses.

  Just the thought of this man being in his private lodge, where Jessie even now sat waiting for Thunder Horse’s return, made him shiver with disgust. Jessie had heard the wheezing and coughing before anyone else. She had been aware at once that Reginald was somewhere close by.

  “Say what you have come to say and then return to your home and never come here again,” Thunder Horse said tightly. “You know that you are not welcome here, or else you would not have sneaked around like a frightened skunk to request time with this chief who sees you as evil and worthless.”

  “Alright, then, I’ll say it and leave,” Reginald replied. “Thunder Horse, I have come to beg for mercy. Please stop the nightmares. I . . . I . . . haven’t gotten any decent sleep since they began. You know that you have the power to stop them. Please, oh, please, I beg of you.”

  He shoved his hands into his front suit jacket pockets and pulled out many shiny gold coins. He thrust them toward Thunder Horse. “Here, take these, and there are many more in my pockets,” Reginald said, wheezing almost uncontrollably.

  “Lord, Thunder Horse, what else can I do to make you understand the severity of the situation?” Reginald said, a sob lodging in his throat. “Please, oh, Lord, please, take the coins. They can buy you a lot of supplies. Hand me a bag. I’ll fill it with these and all the others I have in my pockets. I . . . just . . . need a decent night’s sleep.”

  Thunder Horse’s jaw tightened. He gazed at the coins, and then raised his eyes and glared at Reginald.

  “No, no payment,” he said. He gestured with his hand toward the forest. “Return to your horse and buggy, for you see, little man, there will never be any forgiveness from my people. Your life is what you made it to be; now live it.”

  “Forever?” Reginald choked out, unaware that the coins were spilling from his hands as he dropped them to his sides. “I will be forced to have . . . these . . . nightmares forever?”

  “Forever,” Thunder Horse said firmly. “You disturbed the peace of our sacred cave forever. Leave. Do not return.”

  Reginald was struck dumb by Thunder Horse’s refusal to have mercy. He stared up into the chief’s dark eyes.

  And then a rage filled him that he had never felt before. He leaned into Thunder Horse’s face. “You will pay for this,” he growled out. “I will find a way. I’ll go to the authorities and tell them what you’re doing to me. They will come and force you and your people to go to the reservation now, not later.”

  “You know what will happen if you do this,” Thunder Horse said, a slow smile quivering across his lips.

  “What . . . will . . . happen?” Reginald gulped out.

  “They will think you mad,” Thunder Horse said, now openly smiling down at Reginald. “So do as you must and then live . . . and die . . . with the result.”

  Reginald took a slow step away from Thunder Horse, then turned and began running as fast as his weak legs would take him. Yet his heart was filled with an almost uncontrollable hatred.

  Jessie.

  Yes, Jessie.

  He would get back at Thunder Horse through Jessie.

  He would kill two birds with one stone.

  He would take Jessie away from the Indians and he would at the same time make her pay for what she had done to him.

  No woman double-crossed him and lived to tell of it, not even a cousin.

  Thunder Horse watched Regina
ld until he couldn’t see him any longer, then gazed down at the coins. He stepped up to them and with a heel, he ground what he could into the ground. It was the hunger for such coins that had sent Reginald Vineyard into the sacred cave to take silver from it.

  Thunder Horse wanted nothing that came from such greed.

  “Thunder Horse, I am sorry that I didn’t tell you Reginald Vineyard came here last night while you were gone,” one of his warriors said from behind him, drawing Thunder Horse quickly around. “He did not make it into our village. I stopped him and sent him away.”

  “He will not come again,” Thunder Horse growled, then walked past the warrior and hurried into his lodge, where Jessie stood over the fire, visibly trembling.

  She turned quickly when she heard him enter.

  She hurried to him and flung herself into his arms.

  “He is gone and will not return,” Thunder Horse said, holding her close.

  “What if he saw me?” Jessie said, leaning away so that she could look into his eyes.

  “It would not matter if he did, for he knows better than to bring trouble into my village for any reason,” Thunder Horse said. He framed her beautiful face between his hands. “My woman, you are safe. Nothing will ever come of this meeting, even if he did see you.”

  “He is an unpredictable man,” Jessie said, still bewildered that he had turned into such an evil man after being a decent person in his youth.

  Of course the children poked fun at him then, because of his bad eyesight and small stature, but she had thought he had ignored those humiliations and had made a good life for himself as an adult.

  She knew now that she’d been terribly wrong. He had made a true mess of his life.

  “He might be unpredictable, but he is also a coward who tries to seem otherwise,” Thunder Horse said. “He will never get a chance to harm you. I won’t allow it.”

  Feeling truly safe, and loving Thunder Horse so much, Jessie eased back into his arms. “I know that you will keep me safe,” she murmured. “I shall not worry another minute about what happened here today, not even if he, by chance, got a glimpse of me.”