Savage Winter

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Bring her along,” he said, turning his back and walking off into the night.

  Joanna hadn’t realized that she was crying until she felt the tears on her face. Windhawk had believed Claudia instead of her. She crawled over to Harland and lifted his head onto her lap.

  She did not hear Windhawk return until he jerked her upward. “You will wish many times I had killed you tonight, Joanna,” he said, pulling her along behind him.

  Joanna remembered another time two years ago when Windhawk had spoken those words to her. On that occasion, they had proven to be true. She knew she would receive no mercy from him, but at least it seemed he was going to allow the others to live.

  When they reached the horses, Joanna saw that Farley was waiting for them. He had saddled Fosset and now helped her onto the animal’s back.

  “I’m mighty glad to see you, Joanna,” he said in English.

  “Pray that you can still say that in the morning,” she answered in Blackfoot.

  The four of them rode off into the night. Windhawk was in the lead, and he didn’t once look back at Joanna.

  Was this some kind of nightmare? What would her life be like from now on? Apparently, Windhawk had believed Claudia when she had told him she was carrying Harland’s baby. When he found out she was indeed expecting a child, he would never believe it was his. How would she ever convince him that Claudia hated her and would do anything to see her suffer? Perhaps it would be futile even to try. When the child was born, he would then know he was the father.

  For now Joanna had much to be grateful for. She had feared that Windhawk would kill Harland right before her eyes. No one knew better than she did how fortunate Harland, Claudia, and her uncle were to be alive. She knew that Windhawk could easily have killed them all in his present state of mind.

  She felt numb, knowing she would receive no mercy from him.

  They rode well into the night and didn’t stop to make camp until almost daylight. Joanna was so tired that she slumped down on the grass and fell asleep.

  She was unaware that Windhawk stood over her. His burning eyes moved over her body, then came to rest on her face. Napi had given Joanna the face of an angel, he thought, but her heart was false and deceitful. She had the power to make a man think she loved only him. How easily she could rip a man’s heart out! Had she lain in the arms of the long knife and professed to love him?

  It made him angry that he still felt pain in his heart at her betrayal. He would wait to see if Joanna was with child. If she was, she would know about the fury she had awakened inside him.

  “Joanna don’t look like she’s been hurt none,” Farley remarked in English.

  “If you are speaking to me, do not speak in the language of the white man,” Windhawk said, turning away. He moved out of view and spread his blanket on the grass. He was too tired to think, and he needed sleep.

  Farley folded up a blanket, tenderly placing it under Joanna’s head. She was so sound asleep she didn’t even stir. His heart went out to her, knowing what she must be feeling. Shaking his head, he then went over to sit beside Gray Fox. Since he had stayed with the horses, he didn’t know what had taken place the night before.

  “I thought when Windhawk got Joanna back, they would be happy to see each other. What happened?”

  “The other white woman told Windhawk that Joanna was with child, and the father was the long knife.”

  “What white woman?”

  “How should I know, old man?” Gray Fox said, rolling up in his blanket and turning his back.

  “I hope Windhawk didn’t believe such a lie. Joanna would never have…”

  “Go to sleep, old man! It does not matter what you and I believe—Windhawk will decide what he thinks the truth is for himself.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  Gray Fox turned over and allowed his eyes to travel over Joanna’s face. “No, Joanna would never do such a thing to Windhawk. I do not believe the white woman.”

  “Neither do I,” Farley said, to no one in particular. “Neither do I.”

  Joanna didn’t stir and was unaware that she slept all that day and on into the night.

  Bertram Shipley watched his barge bump against the shore. Seeing that he had three passengers to ferry across, he thought he would receive a good fare, since they seemed well-dressed.

  Tying the lead rope to a post, he noticed two men and one woman—one of the men was a soldier, and the other appeared to be ill.

  “Morning. You folks been waiting long?” he asked, stepping ashore. His eyes ran over the pretty blond woman with approval before coming to rest on the captain.

  “You folks traveling far?” he wanted to know.

  Captain Thatcher led the horses forward and handed the reins to the man. “I’m afraid we will need your help. One of our guides was killed and the other ran off. Mr. Landon seems to have suffered some sort of stroke, and I have suffered a head wound.”

  “What happened here?” Bertram asked, noticing that the bandage tied about the captain’s head was blood-soaked.

  “Good Lord, man! Don’t you see I don’t have time to pass the time of day with you? The Indians might take it in their mind to return,” Harland said, staggering forward to lean on the landing post for support.

  That was the only prompting Bertram needed. He helped the army captain onto the barge, and then helped the woman carry the other man onboard.

  As the barge pulled away, Bertram watched the shore. “We don’t get many Indians ’round here. Ifen we do, they’s usually friendly.”

  “You ever heard of an Indian named Windhawk?” Claudia asked.

  “Sure, ain’t everybody? He ain’t real, though. Just someone the Blackfoot cooked up out of their imagination. Wishful thinking on their part, I ’spect.”

  “It wasn’t wishful thinking that did this to my husband and Captain Thatcher and killed one of our guides. You can tell your grandchildren that you once ferried some folks across in your barge that met Windhawk,” Claudia informed him.

  Howard Landon groaned and opened his eyes, trying to remember what had happened. Claudia sat quietly, with her husband’s head resting on her lap. The right side of Howard’s body seemed to be paralyzed, and when he tried to speak, it was unintelligible.

  Claudia smiled down at him. “Don’t fret none, Howard. I’ll take care of you. Think of it, there will be just you and me in that big house. ’Course, I’ll see that you are kept quite comfortable.” Her hand brushed his forehead. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, because if it did, then I’d be out in the cold, wouldn’t I?”

  Howard watched her eyes glaze over. “Yes, I will see that you get the best of care.”

  Howard thought she must be mad. Was this God’s punishment to him—that he must spend the rest of his days paralyzed and at the mercy of a deranged woman? He had been unconscious when Joanna had been taken, and he couldn’t make Claudia understand that he wanted to know what had happened to her.

  Claudia was smiling to herself. Oh, had she fixed Joanna! How long would Windhawk make her suffer before he realized that it was his child she was carrying?

  In her mind, Claudia began to plan all the things she would do when she got to Philadelphia. She would hire a nurse to look after Howard. She didn’t know much about the law, but she doubted that if Howard died she would be allowed to stay on in Joanna’s house.

  Howard had said that he didn’t receive much money from the estate, but what he thought wasn’t much money would be a fortune to her. If she had planned her future herself, she couldn’t have made it turn out any better.

  I’ve got it all, she thought happily. Oh, Joanna, you have nothing, and I have everything! She remembered the handsome savage she had seen last night. He had been like a magnificent animal wreaking revenge on his enemies. She felt a thrill go through her body and wondered what it would feel like to have Windhawk love her as much as he loved Joanna.

  Claudia glanced down at her husband and found him watching her
. Did she really have all she wanted? Would she be able to forget that, from now on, everything she would have would really belong to Joanna? Somewhere deep inside it bothered her that she would soon be living in Joanna’s house, waited on by Joanna’s servants, and eating Joanna’s food.

  She felt a prickle of uncertainty. One day, in the not too distant future, Tag would grow up and come to Philadelphia. What would she do then? She shook her head. Tag was still just a boy; it would be a long time until he would be old enough to challenge her or Howard. Still, a feeling of uneasiness moved over Claudia’s consciousness—she knew that someday she would have to face Tag and Joanna.

  Howard tried to speak again. He wanted to know what had happened to Joanna, but no one seemed to understand him. He felt cut off from everything and everyone, as if he were living in a waking nightmare. Why wouldn’t someone tell him what was going on? Why couldn’t he move? What had happened to him? He felt Claudia’s hand on his forehead, and his eyes locked with hers. He shivered at the gleam in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, Howard. As I told you, I will take very good care of you when we reach Philadelphia!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Joanna seemed to be in a daze as she rode silently beside Farley. Windhawk was taking her back to the Blackfoot village, whether she wanted to go or not. Farley kept watching her out of the corner of his eyes, wondering what she was thinking. He was puzzled by her strange mood. There were many questions he wanted to ask her, but the fast pace they were traveling at limited their conversation.

  Joanna glanced up and saw Farley watching her with a quizzical expression on his face. She could tell he was worried about her, and she gave him a reassuring smile.

  Later in the afternoon, Windhawk called a halt. He ordered Joanna and Farley to remain hidden in the forest, while he and Gray Fox rode away.

  Joanna watched them until they disappeared, wondering where they were going. After Farley secured the horses, he ambled over to her and leaned against the tree she was sitting beneath. He gave her a questioning glance.

  “I didn’t run away, Farley,” she told him, knowing that must be what he thought.

  “I figured you didn’t. Wanna talk about it?”

  “No, not yet. I don’t even want to think about it. Perhaps, in a few days, I will talk to you about what happened.”

  “I’m just gonna ask you one thing, then. Was you mistreated in any way?” he asked.

  Joanna leaned her head back against the tree trunk. “No, nothing like that. I am just getting tired of so many people trying to run my life. My uncle thinks he has the right to take me back to Philadelphia; Windhawk thinks he has the right to take me back to the Blackfoot village. Just once, I wish someone would ask me what I wanted to do.”

  Farley was quiet as he studied her face. “I’m askin’. Whatcha wanna do?”

  Joanna sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “I don’t know, Farley. Right now, I just don’t know.”

  “Sometimes I ’spect you gotta stand up for what you want, Joanna.”

  Opening her eyes, she smiled at the old trapper fondly. “You have seen Windhawk’s mood. Would you suggest I stand up to him?”

  Farley chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “Sometimes I ’spect you oughta back off.”

  Joanna laughed for the first time in days. She adored Farley and his sharp wit. “I ’spect your right,” she mimicked him playfully.

  Farley glanced up at the sun to gauge the time of day. “I’m wondering ifen Windhawk and Gray Fox will be gone long. I don’t much like the idea of them being out in the open in broad daylight,” Farley said.

  “Why?”

  “’Cause we’re crossing into Sioux territory. That group of warriors we seed this morning was Sioux. That’s why Windhawk wants us to hide out here while he and Gray Fox do some scouting on ahead to make sure them Sioux has left the vicinity.”

  Joanna’s face whitened. “Are we in danger?”

  “Only ifen them Sioux find us. They wouldn’t take too kindly to us intruding on their territory. You don’t need to worry none, though. Windhawk ain’t ’bout to take no unnecessary chances with you along,” Farley told her confidently.

  The day wore on. When Windhawk and Gray Fox finally returned, it was late afternoon. Without a word, Windhawk motioned for Joanna and Farley to mount up, and soon they were on their way again.

  Windhawk had not spoken one word to Joanna since he had taken her four days earlier. He drew rein and pulled back to ride beside her now. She glanced over at him and thought how unbending his attitude seemed. His face was an expressionless mask.

  He must have felt her eyes on him, for he turned his head and stared at her for only a moment before looking away again. Joanna saw the unleashed fury in the depth of his eyes. It was all too apparent from his attitude that he believed she had allowed Harland to make love to her, and it angered her. How could he believe such a thing about her? If he was too stubborn to ask the questions that were troubling him, then she would volunteer no answers!

  They were riding in open country, and suddenly Windhawk pulled up his horse and motioned for the others to do likewise. Joanna looked around, trying to determine the reason he had stopped. Off to her left she could see a dust cloud, and she thought it might be the group of Sioux Farley had told her about.

  “We are too open here…we will ride for that distant plateau. I do not think they have seen us yet,” Windhawk said, turning Puh Pom and urging him back the way they had come.

  Joanna bent low on Fosset’s back, and when they reached the rocky incline she dismounted and led her horse up to the top of the plateau.

  Farley gathered up the reins of the horses and led them out of sight behind some scrub bushes. Windhawk and Gray Fox lay down on their stomachs and crawled over to the edge of the cliff, peering down.

  Farley motioned for Joanna to get down, and she fell quickly to her knees. She could feel the tension in the air as she watched the dust cloud drawing nearer.

  “They have picked up our trail,” Windhawk said. “It will not be long until our tracks will lead them straight to us.”

  Joanna estimated there were more than twenty Sioux warriors. She watched as two of them dismounted and studied the ground, knowing Windhawk was right.

  Gray Fox knelt down beside Joanna, and she looked questioningly into his face. “What will they do to us, Gray Fox?” she asked fearfully.

  “I do not know, Joanna,” he replied. “The Sioux are our old enemies. There are far too many of them for us to make a fight.”

  Windhawk stood up and motioned for Farley. “Old man, it will not be long until the enemy is upon us. I will try to stall them as long as I can, but if I should fail in that, you must be prepared to take Joanna and ride hard until you reach the forest. Go down the back way; it will be your only chance of escape.”

  Joanna scrambled to her feet. “Windhawk, do not do this! They will kill you!” she cried.

  His eyes rested on her face for just a moment, then he glanced away. “If that is so, then you can return to your white lover,” he whispered harshly.

  She felt as if he had dismissed her from his mind when he turned to Farley. “Do not let the Sioux take her alive,” he said pointedly.

  Joanna was stunned by his cruel words. Would he face death with this terrible misunderstanding between them? She had to try one more time to reach him.

  “Windhawk, why can we not all ride down the back of the hill and try to get away? You said yourself that would be our only chance.”

  Windhawk seemed to look right through her, and she knew in that moment that he would be buying time for her to get away. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his shoulder.

  “Please, Windhawk, come with us!”

  He stared down at her hand for a moment, then pushed her roughly away. “I charge you with her safety, old man. Put her on Puh Pom, since he is the swiftest,” he said, turning away.

  Joanna wanted to go to him and beg him not to do this thing. She wanted to tell
him that there was a wall of lies between them and that she still loved him, but his cold, indifference sealed her lips.

  Farley took her by the hand and led her toward the horses. She was already up on Puh Pom’s back before she realized she could never leave Windhawk. How could she just ride away when there were so many misunderstandings between them?

  She heard Farley utter an oath when she leaped from the horse’s back and ran toward the edge of the plateau. She was too late! Windhawk had already started down the slope toward the group of waiting Sioux warriors.

  Gray Fox pulled Joanna down beside him and gave her a heated glance. “Windhawk will be angry that you did not obey him, Joanna. It is still not to late to flee!”

  “I won’t go, and you can’t make me leave Windhawk!” she cried in English.

  Gray Fox studied her a moment and then nodded. “I do not understand you, Joanna. Did you not leave Windhawk before when he wanted you to stay? Why do you stay now when he wants you to go?”

  Joanna didn’t bother to answer. She was watching Windhawk make his way down to the enemy. She noticed that the Sioux had their faces painted, and she couldn’t help shivering. Some of them had their lances aimed at Windhawk, while others had drawn their bows.

  Farley crawled over to Joanna and raised his rifle. He would have no more than one shot, and she knew that wouldn’t save Windhawk’s life.

  How proud and unafraid her love carried himself! Joanna thought. No one but Windhawk would go to meet death instead of allowing it to come to him.

  “Will they kill him? Isn’t there something we can do to help him?” she asked through trembling lips.

  “Shh, let’s see what happens,” Farley said as Windhawk’s voice carried to them.

  “Brothers of the great Sioux nation, I am Windhawk, chief of the Blood Blackfoot. As you see, I have come not to war on you but merely to cross your lands.”