“Quiet!” Lucille warned. “Come outside.” They headed out the back door, then ran to the barn. “I’m going for help!”
“You’re hurt! I should go!” Katy told her sister.
Lucille shook her head. “We’ve got to hurry, and I’m the only one who can ride Sady. All you’ve ever done is ride on the back. She knows me, knows my commands.”
“Take me with you! I’m scared, Lucy!”
Lucille grasped her shoulders, forcing herself to ignore the pain in her side. “Sady can go faster with just one rider. You hide behind that loose board in the corn crib. The space is big enough for somebody your size. Seth would never find you there. He’ll only look in the barn, if he even gets the chance. He’s so drunk he’s going to pass out pretty soon. I know the signs. He’ll be out cold, and I’ll have plenty of time to get back here with help. If he does come to the corn crib to look for us, you just keep real quiet behind that board, and he’ll never know you’re there.”
Katy choked in a sob. “What about Many Birds? She’ll be so ashamed. If we tell on Seth, her people will know what happened to her. Maybe they’ll turn against her and treat her bad. Maybe her brother will come here and kill all of us!”
Lucille shook her head. “I think her people would understand. Seth just wants us to think Many Birds wouldn’t want them to know. He thinks he’ll keep us quiet that way, but he’s got another thing coming! I’m not afraid anymore, Katy. I’ve got a stab wound to prove what Seth is like, and if I can get somebody back here before he unties Many Birds, they’ll see that she was forced. They’ll arrest him! If we’re lucky, Black Hawk will get here first and kill him! Then we’ll be rid of him forever!”
Katy nodded, wiping at her eyes. “But the schoolteacher… Miss Gibbons… she loves Black Hawk, Many Birds said. I don’t want Black Hawk to get in trouble, too.”
Lucille stepped back, holding her side. “I don’t care anymore who gets in trouble, as long as we’re rid of Seth Bridges for good! Come on now! Hurry up and hide yourself in the corn crib before that drunken fool comes out here looking for us! I’m taking Sady and riding for help. I’ll go to Miss Gibbons!”
Katy nodded. The sisters quickly embraced, then ran out to the corn crib. Lucille led Katy to the back wall, moving down two boards that each hung by a nail on only one end. “In here. You can fit because you’re so skinny,” she told Katy. “Seth will never find you if you’re quiet.”
A sobbing Katy squeezed through the boards, and Lucille moved them back into place.
“Don’t be afraid, Katy. I’ll be back.”
She stumbled to the horse, praying she wouldn’t pass out before she got to help. She managed to climb onto old Sady, then headed the mare quietly out of the barn. “Stay there, Katy, no matter what happens. Wait for me.” She rode Sady out of the crib and kept the horse at a gentle walk at first, not wanting to break into a full gallop until she was well away from the farm so that Seth would not hear her.
In his room upstairs, Seth ogled Many Birds’s young, naked body, climbing on top of her again and having his way with her. In his drunken state, he imagined she was enjoying it, that he was himself attractive and virile. All women liked this, didn’t they? Even the ones who were forced. This was all women were good for. His own wife had learned that early on years ago, and his mother had learned it from his father. Besides, this girl was just an Indian. It didn’t matter with an Indian woman. They didn’t have the same feelings as white women, and white women just pretended not to like it.
He took a long time with her because the whiskey made it difficult for him to perform, although in his mind he was better than most men. When he finally finished with her, he climbed off the bed and stood staring down at Many Birds, taking another drink of whiskey. He had to concentrate to remember that Katy and Lucy had been in here. They had struggled, hadn’t they? He’d cut Lucy.
He frowned, looking around. Where were they now? The house was too damn quiet. He stumbled to the door, looking out into the hallway. “Katy? Lucy? Where the hell are you?” There was no answer. He turned back inside and pulled on his wool pants with no underwear. He did not bother buttoning the fly. He clumsily pulled on a pair of old leather boots, then picked up his bottle, and still shirtless, went to the top of the stairs, clinging to the railing as he made his way to the bottom floor. “Lucy!” he called again. “Damn, stupid girls,” he grumbled. He took his wool coat from a hook near the front door and pulled it on, then stumbled through the hallway to the kitchen. “Where the hell is everybody?” he hollered. “Hidin’ in the barn, I’ll bet!” he fussed.
He opened the back door and did not bother closing it as he made his way outside and stumbled over the girls’ packages on his way to the barn. He looked around, taking up a pitchfork and stabbing into haystacks. “Where are you, you bitches! Come on out or I’ll stab your guts out!” There was no reply. He took another good look around, feeling ready to pass out. He grabbed up his whiskey bottle then and walked back outside, glancing at the other outbuildings, then heading for the com crib. He staggered inside, screaming the girls’ names again. No reply.
“You’d better show yourselves,” he warned. “You do me dirty, and you’ll regret it! I’ll sell you off to river pirates, and you’ll be wishin’ you was back home with ole Seth where you’re safe! You think it’s bad bein’ with one man? How about ten men? Twenty men? Maybe more? Come on out, or that’s how it will be for you!”
He stumbled around, moving bales of hay and sending them tumbling. He tore through piles of feed corn, still screaming their names. “I’ll kill you little bitches! If you’ve gone to tell on me, I’ll kill you! Ain’t nobody gonna believe you, and they’ll send you back to me! You know what that means!” He looked around again, waiting, listening. For a moment he thought he heard a little whimper, but he was too drunk to decipher where it came from or if he had even heard what he thought he’d heard. “Is this the thanks I get?” he said then. “I gave each of you three whole dollars! You had an exciting day, got to go riding alone to the tradin’ post. Wasn’t I good to you? Is this how you repay me for bein’ so generous? It ain’t worth it, girls, not over a damn Indian squaw! Indian women like layin’ with men, don’t you know that? Some of them are married by Many Birds’s age. Come on out now, girls. Don’t be frettin’ over that Indian bitch!”
He slugged down more whiskey, vaguely aware Katy and Lucy might have ridden off to get help, but too drunk to do anything about it. It would all work out, wouldn’t it? Nobody would think anything of a white man screwing an Indian. Hell, maybe Black Hawk would come here, and he could blow the man’s guts out and be rid of him. Yes, sir, that was a nice thought. That’s what he’d do. He’d go back to the house and wait with his shotgun.
He turned to leave, but his legs crumbled under him. He grinned as he fell to the floor. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled. “I’ll kill him tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes and stretched out on the floor. The room began swimming around him, and he could not make himself get up and go back to the house. He lay there staring at piles of corn in the loft, unaware that someone watched him from behind loose boards that formed a double wall at the back of the corn crib.
Katy stared, terrified. She could feel a mouse skitter over her foot, but she dared not move or make a sound for fear Seth would find her here. The memory of how Many Birds looked sprawled on that bed with blood on her thighs was emblazoned in her young mind, and she feared the same thing would happen to her if Seth got hold of her. Maybe he would even stab her to death! Maybe right now he was just pretending to be passed out, hoping she would show herself. Lucille had told her to wait here and hide until she got back, and she was going to do just that.
She forced back the urge to break into tormented sobbing as she managed to slither down and sit on a piece of foundation cement. She told herself not to be afraid of the rats and mice and spiders with whom she knew she shared this dark hiding place. Compared to Seth Bridges, th
ey were like good friends. They could never bring her the harm that Seth could. She would wait. Lucy would come. Her sister would not desert her.
Twenty-eight
Lucille was frustrated by how slow old Sady was. She could feel blood trickling down her side and over her leg, and she tried not to think about the fact that Seth had cut her, or the fact that she could bleed to death before reaching help. She couldn’t leave Katy alone for too long. She had to tell someone what was happening before Seth came out of his drunken stupor.
She hoped she was headed in the right direction, because she couldn’t think clearly, and her vision was blurred. She had to reach Miss Gibbons, but the three miles to her house seemed like a hundred now.
Surely Seth would get in terrible trouble over this, because she wouldn’t tell just about him raping poor Many Birds. She would tell about the beatings, about his selling her to Jubal Desmond, and about the whiskey hidden in the corn crib. She would tell everything, and they would take Seth away for a long time. Miss Gibbons would take in her and Katy, she was sure, at least until they were old enough to be on their own. She had to believe that, had to trust in the schoolteacher’s offer to come to her if they ever needed help. She was tired of being afraid of Seth. If he found her and killed her for this, so be it. That was better than putting up with life at the farm one day longer.
She leaned over and clung to Sady’s mane, thinking she was riding fast; but in reality Sady was lumbering along at a slow walk, unresponsive to Lucille’s weak kicks and still tired from the long ride to the agency and back. The horse headed to a stand of trees and stopped to graze. Lucille kicked at her sides. “Go, Sady, go!” The horse would not budge.
Lucille felt the tears of frustration wanting to come, but she refused to cry. It was almost completely dark now. Somehow she had to find her way to Miss Gibbons, even if she had to walk. She clung to the pommel of the saddle, managed to swing her leg around and dismount, but as soon as her feet hit the ground, she discovered her legs had no strength. She crumbled to the ground and lay there shivering. She curled up into her coat. “Miss Gibbons,” she groaned.
Sady whinnied, and Lucille opened her eyes to daylight. She felt stiff and frozen, could not move one limb. Where was she? It took her a moment to realize how she had got here, where she was headed and why.
“Many Birds!” she whispered. And what about poor Katy? Was she still hiding in the corn crib, waiting faithfully for her sister to come with help? Had Seth found her and raped her? She realized she must have lain here all night! Sady whinnied again, and now Lucille could hear the sound of approaching horses. She managed to raise up on one elbow to see through blurry vision that soldiers were coming. Now she would have help! She managed to raise one arm and wave it, mustering all her strength to call out for help. She prayed that God had spared her life so that she could still help Katy and Many Birds. “Please protect Katy from Seth,” she prayed.
An army patrol approached. To her dismay she could see that Jubal Desmond was with them. No, not Jubal. He would find a way to stop her. He would take her back to Seth, and Seth would kill her, sell poor Katy off to river pirates! Jubal knew everything. He would find a way to keep her quiet! She couldn’t let that happen.
“Hold up there!” she heard a man shout. “What the hell—”
“It’s the Bridges girl,” she heard Jubal saying. “Looks like she’s been hurt.”
She heard horses all around her then. A man ordered others to dismount. Someone was bending over her. “Miss Gibbons,” she said weakly. “Miss Gibbons!”
“What’s that she’s blabbering?”
It was Jubal’s voice. She had to keep him from talking them into taking her to Seth. Someone looked her over. “She’s bleeding! Looks like she’s been stabbed,” the man commented. “She’s saying she wants to see Miss Gibbons.”
“Maybe she was out riding and Indians got hold of her. We’d better take her to her pa, see what he wants to do about this.”
There was Jubal’s voice again.
“No! No!” she protested. “Miss Gibbons… got to find… Miss Gibbons!” She was lucid enough to realize she dare not say too much about how this had happened. Jubal might ride out and warn Seth, who could get rid of all the evidence before the rest of the soldiers got there. Jubal shouldn’t know.
“Maybe her own pa did this to her.” The words came from whoever was bending over her. “I’ve heard it’s suspected he gets drunk and abuses his daughters. Let’s take her to Miss Gibbons. Maybe the schoolteacher can get her to explain how she got here. Pick her up and we’ll take her to the woman’s cabin. The poor girl rode this far. We might as well take her to the closest place for help.”
“Yes, sir.”
That was Jubal’s voice. Thank God he was apparently with someone who had more authority than he. She wanted to vomit at the thought it was Jubal who was carrying her now, holding her while he managed to mount his horse and place her in front of him. How she hated having to lean on him, but at least they were going to Miss Gibbons’s house and not back to Seth’s. All she had to do now was stay conscious long enough to tell Miss Gibbons what had happened. Once she knew, she would raise a ruckus, and Jubal couldn’t stop anything then. He was with someone of higher authority, and he would have to obey the man’s orders.
She was too weak to be aware of the worried look in Jubal’s eyes. All kinds of possibilities over what had happened raced through Jubal’s mind, and he wondered what in hell Seth was up to, how Lucille had come to be here, injured this way. And where was Katy? He worried that this time a drunken Seth had done something that would lead to the discovery of his whiskey smuggling, maybe even to his own involvement. He scrambled to think of all ranges of excuses to cover himself. Somehow he had to find a way to get to Seth before his new lieutenant and these other men did. At least Lieutenant Hart did not know his past, that he had once been accused of helping smuggle whiskey and of being in cahoots with Seth Bridges. That was one thing to his advantage. He had to find a way to shut Seth up. “Don’t you dare get me in trouble over this, you little bitch, or I’ll find a way to make you suffer,” he growled close to Lucille’s ear. The girl only groaned.
Evelyn cleaned up from breakfast, feeling warm and happy. Black Hawk had visited her in the night, a sweet, exotic liaison that had left her fulfilled. Surely it would not be long before he would be in her bed every night, and they could wake up in each other’s arms. As it was, he had left before sunrise but had come back to share breakfast with her and Little Fox. He sat outside now showing Little Fox how to make his own arrows. In spite of the thirty-eight-degree temperature, both father and son preferred to sit outside rather than in the house.
She walked to a window to watch them for a moment. She knew now that she could share a life with Black Hawk. She understood that often he would have to be out in the fresh air, no matter what the weather, to ride off alone or with Little Fox. Their Indian nature was part of what she loved about them both. Black Hawk wore winter moccasins and fringed leggings, as well as his deerskin jacket. Little Fox wore the woolen pants and coat a white boy would wear, but a red bandana was tied around his head.
She turned away, realizing she had to get busy. She would have to get ready soon for church services. She prayed that someday she could get Black Hawk to go with her. She placed a loaf of homemade bread in the breadbox, then heard the sound of several horses approaching. She hurried to the door to see Black Hawk standing on the porch with Little Fox, looking defensive. It was no wonder. A group of nine soldiers sat facing the house, and one of them was Jubal Desmond, who held someone in his arms. Evelyn hurried outside, not even noticing the cold. Had someone been hurt? Were they blaming Black Hawk? Was that why they were here? She recognized the man in charge, Carson Hart, a new lieutenant.
“Miss Gibbons!” Hart called out to her. “We have Lucille Bridges with us. She’s been hurt and was calling for you when we found her!”
“Oh, dear L
ord,” Evelyn exclaimed. “Go and get her, Black Hawk. Bring her inside.”
Black Hawk glanced at Evelyn curiously. She knew he was very wary, especially since it was Jubal Desmond who held Lucille.
“It’s all right, Black Hawk.”
He started over to get Lucille when the lieutenant balked. “Wait a minute! The sergeant can carry her in for you, ma’am. The girl might not want an Indian man holding her.”
Evelyn folded her arms against the cold. “Lieutenant, Black Hawk is a good friend. He can be trusted.” She glanced at Desmond. “More than your Sergeant Desmond.” She looked back at Hart. “I assure you, Lucille would much rather be held by Black Hawk than by the sergeant. I will not have that man in my house.”
Hart frowned, and Desmond looked ready to kill.
“I don’t understand Miss Gibbons,” Hart told her.
“I will explain later. Just let Black Hawk bring Lucille inside and we’ll see if we can find out what happened. Where did you find her?”
Black Hawk walked up to Desmond with a look of victory in his eyes. He reached up for Lucille, and with a sneer Desmond shoved the girl’s limp body into Black Hawk’s arms. Black Hawk said nothing. He turned and carried her into the house, followed by Little Fox. By then the lieutenant had dismounted.
“We found her just about a half-mile from here,” he was telling Evelyn. “She was lying nearly unconscious on the ground with a deep cut in her right side. I think she’s just weak from loss of blood. I suggested taking her back to her father, but she kept repeating your name, and this place was closer, so I brought her here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. It’s probably the best thing you could have done. Come with me, Lieutenant.”
Hart ordered the rest of the men to stay mounted and wait outside. Jubal watched him, wishing he could go in and hear what Lucille had to say. He wanted to choke Evelyn Gibbons for her smart talk and for embarrassing him again in front of the other men. Hart didn’t know about the accusations she had made against him earlier, but the bitch would damn well tell him now!
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