Making such a happy announcement when they all felt so sad niggled at her gladness, but didn’t dim her inner glow. She’d soon see the husband of her heart and her beloved baby boy. She thinned her lips to match the mood. “Being away from Lone Eagle and my child has made me feel like an empty shell, so I understand how you all feel. I’m happy you respect my decision, since I plan to leave tomorrow. I’m confident I can find my way back to the tribe.”
Her announcement etched a horrified look on her parents’ faces. “Travel alone? Her father’s mouth gaped.
Walt braced the edge of the table. “Cecile, you can’t be serious. Remember what happened to me?"
“I’ve learned from Lone Eagle all I need to know about finding my way by looking at the sun, the stars, and the moon.”
Still, the other three insisted they would not allow her to put herself in jeopardy by being alone on the prairie for several days.
Their argument held logic, but determination squared her shoulders.
“Can you describe the general location of the Sioux camp?” Walt asked.
“The camp is next to a river. The trip to Castroville took us four or five days, so I imagine it will take me eight to ten days to get back to the village. I know the direction we traveled. I can do this.”
“I have a fair knowledge of the area,” Walt said. “Just give me some time to take care of a few things and I’ll take you home.”
Home. How strange the word seemed coming from him; he was taking her home. Cecile agreed. “I appreciate and accept your offer, but if you aren’t ready to take me back to the village by the end of the week then, I’ll leave without you.”
She wouldn’t endure missing her Sioux family one minute longer than necessary.
Chapter Forty-four
“I’ve decided I’m going to stay with Aunt May,” Walt announced. “It will give you three some time together without the added stress of having me underfoot.”
Mrs. Palmer smiled. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Walt, but you do know you’re more than welcome to stay. I can fix you a bed in Harve’s study.”
“No, thanks, Mrs. Palmer. I’ll feel more comfortable at Aunt May’s.” He picked up his pack and left, but not without a glance over his shoulder at his wife. “Cecile, I’ll be in touch.”
Watching from the front porch, Cecile’s gaze followed his tall muscular form down the street until he disappeared around the corner. She harkened back to the first time he'd come for dinner, recalling how much she hated to see him leave that night. How could such intense feelings change in so short a time?
There was little said the rest of the day and evening. Her father, in his business-as-usual demeanor, had gone to the bank early to hide himself in his daily routine. Her mother tried to make small talk, but choked up with emotion every time the subject of Cecile’s leaving came up. Cecile’s attempts to make her mother see how wonderful life was with Lone Eagle were fruitless, especially when trying to explain using utensils made of buffalo parts to someone who bought everything she needed at the local mercantile. The life her mother led was a world apart from the Indian’s existence, and Cecile no longer fit the role of the pampered and spoiled child she’d once been.
A lull in the conversation prompted her mother to stand and head for the kitchen. “Is there anything you need, dear?”
Cecile’s insides warmed with excitement. “Everything I need is waiting for me at home.”
***
While enjoying breakfast with her parents, Cecile heard the front gate open. She leaned over and peered out the window at two horses tied to the front fence and Walt walking up to the door. He was still every bit as handsome as the first time she saw him. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before someone else would one day feel the same about him eased her mind. She dropped her napkin on her plate, stood, and greeted him at the door. “Good morning.”
“I have some good news for you.” His spirits seemed improved, but she still detected sadness in his eyes.
“Well, are you going to tell me or not?”
“Last night a new boarder checked in at Aunt May’s. You’ll never guess who it was.”
She didn’t have time to respond.
“It was Luke, the man who saved my life.” The sparkle returned to Walt’s eyes.
The lustful leers cast at her by the dirty, scraggly man replayed in Cecile’s mind. A shiver ran down her spine.
Walt nudged the brim of his hat upward. “Luke and I sat up most of the night swapping stories. When I told him about you, he remembered who you were. He described you perfectly.”
Her skin crawled just thinking about him. Of course he could describe her—he’d undressed her with his eyes.
“The best part, Cece, is when I told him I was going to try to help you find your way back, he offered to guide us. He knows exactly where the camp is. Isn’t that great?”
Of course Walt was impressed with the man who saved his life, but Cecile had reservations about Luke’s character. She chastised herself for judging him only by his appearance. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed that day in the village. She guessed she could put up with just about anyone or anything to get home. With Walt along, she’d be safe.
“So, when are we going?”
“Luke has to leave today. He’s loading up on the supplies and trade good he needs. As soon as he’s done, we can go. I can’t believe how lucky we are.”
“Today? We’re leaving today?” Cecile was so elated; she grabbed Walt around the neck and hugged him.
Clearly her gratitude sent the wrong message and obviously made Walt uncomfortable. He reached behind his neck, unclasped her hands and brought them to the front. He held them in his for just a moment before letting them go, that same sadness returning to his blue eyes. “I reckon we’d better get your things together and get going before Luke leaves us behind.”
Having Walt accompany her on the trip when Luke could clearly act as guide caused guilt to fester inside her, but there was no way she was going to be alone with that obnoxious trapper…trader…whatever title he claimed.
She had her things ready and stashed behind the chair near the front door. Anticipating leaving before the week was over, she’d packed only the few things she brought with her; but she needed nothing more. She’d discarded the clothes she wore there and replaced them with a pair of pants and a shirt that fit. She’d even bought a new pair of boots for the trip.
Her mother came from the kitchen, blotting her eyes with her apron. “What should I do with all your things…the new clothes Walt bought you, your dolls…?”
Cecile needed no time to ponder. “Donate everything to the church. Certainly someone will put them to good use.”
***
Cecile’s father burst through the front door. “I saw Walt pass by the bank with an extra horse.” He breathed like someone who’d run a mile. “I left the bank as soon as I could to see you one last time.”
Having made the decision to return to the Sioux, Cecile considered the hardest part of leaving over, but saying goodbye to her parents proved far the most difficult. To talk about leaving forever and going through with walking out the door were two very different things. Emotions choked her. “P...please, don’t make this harder than it already is by asking me to stay. Just know that I love you both, and like I said, I’ll send my love to you on every evening breeze. You will always be part of my heart.”
She hugged them both tightly and gave each one last kiss. Her father remained composed, but her mother sobbed uncontrollably. Harvey put his arm around his wife’s shoulders while Cecile tied her valise to her saddle, mounted up, and rode away alongside Walt. She gulped back tears and kept her gaze trained on the horizon.
“Luke is meeting us in front of the saloon.” Walt’s voice barely caught her attention.
Her resolve not to look back weakened. She glanced over her shoulder and swallowed hard. The image of her parents waving goodbye would be a memory to last a lifetime.
Cha
pter Forty-five
Luke appeared as dirty as Cecile remembered; he wore the same sweat-stained hat, and his beard had grown longer and bushier. From where she sat astride her horse, she smelled his disgusting body odor, even over the liquor and tobacco wafting from the saloon behind him. His leering once-over stirred bad memories, and overwhelmed her with the urge to spur her horse into a run and leave him in the dust. Instead, she held tight to her reins and forced a smile.
“Well, howdy there, little lady,” he said. “Nice to see you again.”
Cecile shivered. Hadn’t Walt noticed the way Luke looked at her? If he did, he didn’t make mention, but launched into planning the trip.
The two men discussed the route to take and where to stop for the night. When Luke mounted, Walt leaned from his saddle, drawing closer to the trader. “Luke, I expect you to behave like a gentleman as far as Cecile is concerned.”
Clearly, her earlier assumption had been wrong.
“You don’t have to worry none about me,” Luke said. “I got mahself a little squaw woman awaitin’ for me, and she’d have my scalp if she even caught me so much as lookin’ at another woman.”
The thought of any woman waiting for Luke made Cecile queasy. Who could be that desperate?
They rode several hours before making camp for the night. While they unpacked the horses, Cecile situated herself downwind of Luke. After only one day on the trail he smelled even more disgusting. Did the man ever bathe?
“I jes plan to ride with you for a couple of days. I have business to the east and if I go all the way to the village, I’ll miss my appointment. I figure it’ll only take four days to get back to Broken Feather’s village, you can make a couple on yer own. It’s a pretty easy trip.” Luke surprised them with his statement as they cleared the sleeping area of rocks and pebbles.
Cecile sensed the next four days would pass slowly; at least she wouldn’t have to put up with Luke the entire time. Hell, she’d endure him if need be. She was eager to get home.
Walt built a campfire and prepared a meager meal of coffee, bacon, and biscuits. “There isn’t much, but come and get it while it’s hot.”
Cecile sat cross-legged on her bedroll and munched on a biscuit. Thankfully, her nausea confined itself to morning.
Luke talked nonstop about his trading experiences and all of his close brushes with death the entire time they ate. “Why I once kilt a bear three times my size.” He kept glancing in Cecile’s direction as if trying to impress her.
When it was apparent his attempts fell short, he yawned and stretched. “Best turn in early. I want to leave at dawn’s first light.”
Tired of listening to Luke’s boasting, Cecile welcomed the opportunity to climb into her bedroll. She was exhausted from her emotional departure from Silver City and weary from the day’s ride. The cool night air made her bedroll quite comfortable. For once, she had no complaints about sleeping on the hard ground. Her mind played forward to her homecoming.
The melodic sounds of the crickets in the nearby grass made her drowsy. Just as she drifted off, Walt and Luke joined in a duet of snoring, making sleep impossible. Passing time, she watched the last embers of the campfire die, and focused on Lone Eagle and what his reaction would be to seeing her. She imagined what holding Two Clouds in her arms, reveling in the feel. Finally, despite the raucous war being carried on next to her, the weariness of the day won out and her thoughts stilled and slumber beckoned.
***
Walt acted withdrawn. The guilt of leaving him behind overshadowed her happiness at going home. Although both agreed they could never get back what they had had, she sensed he still loved her. Knowing he still had feelings for her made parting more difficult. She’d always love him, but not in the husband and wife way.
Cecile kept any conversations light-hearted and avoided any mention of Lone Eagle. Most of the time, conversing wasn’t a problem since Luke kept retelling the same stories over and over. As boring as she found them, they were better than awkward silence or trying to find words to fill the void.
The horses plodded through the drying grass, continuously stirring up dust. The thick powder rose upward and deposited itself onto everything. Cecile used the tail of her shirt to wipe the gritty dirt from her face, a futile attempt since her clothes were already filthy. Maybe they’d reach water soon so she could wash away the coating of grime.
They camped for the second night without a creek or stream in sight. Tired and dusty, Cecile barely mustered strength to finish the meager fare they shared for the evening meal. “I can’t believe how I worn out I feel,” she complained, tossing the last of her biscuit into the grass. She stretched out on her bedroll, sure her pregnancy had something to do with being overly tired.
“You women ain’t made for travelin’ is all. You need yer fancy wagons and carriages, not like us men folk.” Luke’s annoying voice grated the air. She rolled her eyes. No doubt he was about to begin his usual string of boring yarns.
She didn’t protest; there was no need to bait him.
“Maybe yer so tired cuz of those extra jugs you have to tote.” He had a flair for making things sexually explicit. Besides, his constant alluding to intimacy in his stories made her uncomfortable.
“That’s enough, Luke. Keep it civil or be quiet.” Walt’s voice was firm.
The fire had reduced to glowing embers when they finally settled down to sleep for the night. The air had cooled drastically, and the lack of fire in camp created a blanket of darkness that easily encouraged sleep. Cecile rose and toted her bedroll on the other side of the camp, partially because she felt guilty lying close to Walt, but mostly because she wanted to distance herself from the noisy snoring. She snuggled down, willing sleep to come. She knew when the sun rose in its blazing fury, there would be no curtains or shutters to close to steal some extra sleeping time.
Visions of Lone Eagle, Two Clouds, and the rest of the Sioux people drifted through her thoughts into dream. They were rudely snatched from her mind when a crushing weight pressed against her, and a massive hand covered her mouth, stifling the scream that formed in her throat. Terrified, she opened her eyes, trying to focus in the darkness.
Cecile knew from the assailing stench it was Luke. A cloud covered the moon, stealing light enough to see. She imagined the look on his face—the same one she’d seen over and over again portraying the animalistic lust he felt for her. She tried to wrestle free from his steel-like grip, but the weight of his arms and legs restrained her from movement. His free hand fumbled under the covers, trying to tear at her clothing.
The bedroll she’d found so comfortable moments ago held her captive for this horrible man. His noxious odor assailed her nostrils, making her stomach churn. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t wrestle free. She could only make guttural noises against the hand over her mouth. Her heart thundered.
His callused fingers yanked at her clothing until he maneuvered his hand under her shirt. , “I know this is what you want. You can’t fool me.” His intimation turned her stomach
While he groped her breast, he slobbered kisses along her neck and cheeks. His breath sickened her. Removing his covering hand, he tried to hold her whipping head steady and place his lips upon hers.
Cecile let out a bloodcurdling scream. Walt was out of his bedroll in a split second. His giant strides rumbled the ground, crossing the distance between them. He grabbed Luke’s arm and spun him around and off Cecile, and with a walloping punch, connected with Luke’s nose.
Luke had no time to think, let alone react. Walt pounded him a second time, sending him sprawling across the dirt. Cecile drew herself into a fetal position, praying Luke wouldn’t fall on top of her.
After the second punch, Luke struggled to rise, but rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands. The moon now free of its shroud showed blood oozing through the trader’s fingers. “You son of a bitch. You broke my nose.”
Walt stood over him in a threatening stance. Like a ra
ttlesnake, he was poised for another strike. “Get up, I dare you. Get up!”
Luke wobbled to his feet. Holding one hand out as a signal of surrender, he cupped his nose with the other. “Please don’t hit me again, I’ve had enough.”
He staggered over to his bedroll, collapsed and pressed a kerchief to his face.
Walt knelt by Cecile. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” Her voice quivered,
“It won’t happen again, Cece, I promise you.”
Luke sat on his bedroll, dabbing at his face. “You didn’t hafta break my nose.”
With anger etched on his face, Walt crossed to Luke and stood over. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. I warned you to treat her like a lady. You got off easy this time, but if you so much as lay a hand on her again, you’ll be sorrier than you are now. Do you get my drift?”
Luke looked up and nodded.
Walt squared his shoulders. “I want you gone. We don’t need help from the likes of you. I expect you out of here at first light.”
Mumbling something under his breath, Luke stretched out, turning his back to them. Walt snatched up his own bedroll and placed it closer to Cecile’s, then walked to his saddle and pulled his rifle from its sheath.
He came back and lay down, keeping one hand on the rifle. “Cece, go ahead and get some rest. I’m here to make sure nothing else happens.” He rose and his elbow and turned in Luke’s direction. “I’m a very light sleeper, so you don’t have to worry.”
She rolled to her side, still shaken by Luke’s attempt to molest her. Her thanks seemed so trivial. Thinking about what could have happened if she’d made the trip alone sent a cold chill rippling through her. She pulled the blanket up under her chin, still fighting mixed emotions.
Morning came much too soon for Cecile. She felt as if she’d just drifted off. Hearing noises, she sleepily opened her eyes, then recalling last night, sat bolt upright.
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