The young man blinked. “Well, I… I—”
“Just as I thought! You would want to kill him, and you would probably have every right to do it yourself!” She walked away, heading for the colonel’s headquarters to deliberately badger the man. She intended to see that he took proper care of Black Hawk. Perhaps the man could find a better place to put him, a room where he had fresher air, some sunlight. With enough men guarding him, he didn’t need to be in that stinking hole of a damp cell. The circuit judge who would listen to Black Hawk’s case was not going to make it to Fort Sully for another couple of weeks yet. In the conditions under which he was living now, a man like Black Hawk could die by then.
She closed her eyes for a moment as she walked. “God help me,” she whispered. “Don’t take him from me. Not now.” Christmas would be here soon, but she felt no joy. A shadow moved over her then, and she looked up to see a hawk floating overhead its wings spread in graceful beauty. She took hope in the sight as a sign from God. The spirit of the hawk was watching over the man she loved. God would surely help her find a way to free him.
Jubal Desmond waited at the door to Evelyn’s cabin, eager to get to Lucille and Katy before they said too much, if that was possible. What had they already told the schoolteacher and others? Now that they were rid of Seth, they should be glad of it. Maybe they would be willing to keep quiet about the whiskey, and about what he had done to Lucille. He knew only one way to shut them up…
His hands opened and closed into fists as he dealt with his anxiety and frustration. He knew Evelyn Gibbons was gone… at the fort visiting her Indian lover. The Widow Evans was at the school teaching, which meant the girls should be here alone. He’d like to kick his way inside, but he didn’t want to draw too much attention. If anyone found him here, he would tell them he had orders to come here and question the girls about what they knew about Many Birds and what Katy possibly knew about Black Hawk murdering their father. He’d be damn glad when this was over and Black Hawk was dead and silent! Now if he could just make sure Lucille and Katy…
“Who is it?” came a timid voice from inside.
Jubal had deliberately left his horse behind the cabin so others would not notice it, and so the girls would not recognize it if they looked out a front window. He stood as close as possible to the door so that they also could not see him from the same window. “Reverend Phillips,” he answered.
The door opened slightly, and quickly Jubal shoved it open wider and forced himself inside, closing the door again. Lucille, who had answered the door in her robe, gasped and jumped back, terror in her eyes. “You get out of here!” she shouted.
Jubal turned and rammed the bolt on the door closed. “Not just yet, young lady.” He put out his hand as though to ward her off. “I’m not here to hurt you or Katy. Where is Katy?”
“What do you want?” Lucille moved farther back.
Jubal looked around the room, then noticed a pair of blue eyes watching him from behind the curtains that led to the bedroom. “Come on out, Katy. I just want to talk to you and Lucille.”
Katy’s heart pounded with terror. She had told no one, not even her sister, what she had actually seen. She had not spoken to one person besides Lucille, and all she had told her sister was that when Seth came to the corn crib and passed out, she ran out from her hiding place and back to the house to hide in a cupboard, where the reverend and Beverly found her. That had been two days ago, and she was too frightened of what could happen to her to tell the truth, even to Lucille, yet for some reason she had kept that button from Jubal’s army jacket, slipping it into her little carpetbag when she packed to come here with the reverend.
“Talk about what?” Lucille asked, diverting his attention from Katy.
Jubal’s hands went into fists again when he looked back at her. “What have you told everybody about me?”
Lucille studied him with hatred in her eyes. “Nothing… yet. All they know is what Seth did to Many Birds.” Her eyes teared then. “I’m too ashamed to tell them about me and Seth…” Her lips moved into a sneer. “Or me and you, even though you both forced me! Miss Gibbons has been trying to get us to talk about it, but I won’t, and Katy isn’t talking at all. She’s been too badly frightened by everything.”
Jubal glanced over at the curtains again. There was something in those eyes he didn’t like, not just hatred and terror… but knowledge. Was she thinking only of what she knew about him and Lucy, or him and his involvement with Seth in smuggling whiskey? It still made him uncomfortable to realize no one had been able to find Katy the day of Seth’s murder. He could not get over the feeling that someone was watching that day when he looked around the corn crib, and he had lost sleep over it. He decided it was probably his own guilty conscience. After all, Katy had been found in the house, hiding in a cupboard.
“Get out of here and leave us alone,” Lucille told him. “I hope I never have to look at you again!”
“I’m not leaving until I get your promise that you won’t say anything about me and you, or me and the whiskey smuggling.”
“Or what?” Lucille sneered.
Jubal stepped closer. “Or you’ll both find yourselves in a lot sorrier state than living with Seth! Neither one of those crimes will get me anything more than being kicked out of the Army! I’ll still be a free man, and you had both better remember that I know every river pirate and woman slaver on the Missouri River! I’ll get you! I’ll get you both if you rat on me!” He pointed at Lucille. “You think about that, little girl! You think about what could happen to your sister. She’s come through this unharmed, still a virgin. She can go to school now, make something of herself. Don’t mess it up for her!” He glanced over at the pair of eyes watching him. “And don’t mess it up for yourself, little lady! Don’t think Miss Gibbons or that excuse of a man, Reverend Phillips, can protect you! If I want you, I’ll get you!” He turned his eyes back to Lucille. “You’re rid of Seth now. Be glad of it. You keep your mouth shut about me, and you can both have yourselves good lives, stay here with Miss Gibbons, go to school, wear pretty dresses. Nobody needs to know about you and Seth or you and me. Keep it to yourself and someday you’ll be able to marry a decent man and he’ll never know the difference! It’s done now. Seth is dead, and you don’t have to be afraid of him anymore.”
He stepped even closer, his pale-blue eyes glaring with a determined threat that reminded Lucille of how Seth sometimes looked at her when he wanted to hit her. “But you do have to be afraid of me, if you get it in your head to tell everything you know! You think about that!” He turned his gaze once-more to give Katy the same look, but she was no longer watching him. He took a deep breath to control his own anger. He wished he could strangle them both and be rid of them, and he hoped this little threat would do the trick. “I want your promise,” he growled.
Lucille swallowed. How she hated this man, but she wanted only peace now, a chance to lead a normal life, unbranded by shame. “I promise,” she answered.
Their eyes held, and he finally nodded. “Good.” His eyes moved over her scathingly. “It’s been nice knowing you,” he said with a wicked smile. He turned and left, and Lucille just stood there shivering for a moment. She shuffled on weak legs to the bedroom, still not strong enough to get dressed and go outside. Seth’s knife wound had not been deep enough to cause any serious damage, but it was enough to make her lose a lot of blood. She was still dizzy when she got up, and the stitches on her stomach were painful.
“Katy?” She called for her sister when she reached the bedroom.
“Don’t let him kill me,” Katy whimpered.
Lucille realized the words had come from under the bed. “Katy, come out of there. He’s not going to kill us. He’d never get away with it.”
“Yes, he could,” Katy sniffled. “He could.”
Lucille frowned with worry. She knew her sister well, knew when there was something Katy was not telling her. She was the only one who knew tha
t Katy was originally hiding in the corn crib. She had told no one that first day, after waking up to learn that was where Seth’s dead body was found. She even wondered if Katy herself could have killed the man. She was not about to give anyone else that idea, so she had never mentioned the hiding place. She had to protect her sister.
Besides, something else must have happened. Katy said she had run to the house after Seth passed out and had seen nothing or his murder; but Lucille had heard Miss Gibbons say she was suspicious of the fact that Jubal Desmond had been the one to find Seth’s body. Did Katy know something she was not telling? She had suffered through a lot of Seth’s abuse, but had always remained outspoken and defiant. It was not like her to be so terrified that she would speak to no one. And it certainly was not like her to hide in a cupboard from decent people like the reverend, or to crawl under a bed like a terrified animal. What was she so afraid of now, especially since Seth was dead and could not hurt them?
“Katy, is there something you aren’t telling me? I’m your sister. You can tell me anything.”
“No! It’s like Jubal said. We have to keep quiet.”
Lucille folded her robe closer around her neck. “Don’t worry about Jubal. We won’t say anything, but we don’t have to be afraid of him, either. He just came here to try to scare us because he’s scared himself of getting into trouble. He can’t do anything to us without getting caught.”
Katy crawled out from under the bed, her eyes wide with terror. She nodded her head. “Yes, he can, Lucy,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you tell on him. Don’t you tell anything. He might kill us.”
Lucille sighed. “Jubal is a coward and a crook and a rapist, but he’s not a mur-” She frowned. “Katy, did you see Jubal kill somebody?”
Katy sniffed and shook her head. “No. I… I just think he could. He’s an Army man. They killed all those Indians at Wounded Knee, remember? Women and children. And he knows bad men who would do bad things to us. Please don’t tell on him, Lucy! I don’t want him to come and get us!”
Lucille was even more sure her sister was hiding something, but she knew it would do no good to try to persuade her to tell now. Maybe after awhile, when she was stronger and had learned to trust Miss Gibbons and the others, she would get back her strength and courage. She moved her arms around her and let her cry on her shoulder. “I won’t tell,” she told her, petting her hair. “I promise.”
Thirty-one
Evelyn glanced out the church window at snow. This was the first day in the past two weeks that there had not been a stiff, cold wind. Huge flakes drifted on still air, piling atop one another as they met the earth, the trees, the rooftops. She thought how her heart felt as cold as that snow. It had been nearly a month since Seth Bridges had been found dead, and Black Hawk was fast losing hope and life as he sat in that cold cell. She had not been able to convince Colonel Gere to put him in a warmer and more pleasant room, and each time she visited him she could see the desire to live was leaving him.
His wound had healed, but it was the inner wounds and the feeling of hopelessness that was killing him, the same things that killed other proud Indian men who were sent off to prison in Florida, the very things that led other Indian men here on the reservation to continue to pay any price for whiskey so that they could drink away the inner pain.
She was herself losing hope. Christmas had come and gone. She had made it as joyous as she could for Lucille, Katy, and Little Fox, had brought in a pine tree and let them decorate it with strings of popcorn and ornaments she had helped them make. She could tell it was the happiest the girls had ever been, and in spite of her own heavy heart and poor Little Fox’s broken one, she was glad to see new light in Katy and Lucille’s eyes.
Katy had blossomed, had gained some weight, and was completely changed from the silent, frightened child Reverend Phillips had found hiding in a cupboard. Still, she had said nothing about the day of the murder that might help Black Hawk. Evelyn had hoped the girl knew more than she was telling, but she’d had every opportunity to give her any helpful information she could. She stuck to her story that she had seen Many Birds tied to Seth’s bed, and then Seth stabbing Lucille; that after that she had hidden in a cupboard the rest of the night, waiting for Lucille to go for help. Mention of that awful day and night never failed to wipe the joy off Katy’s face, and every time Evelyn brought up the subject, the girl withdrew and became quiet again.
Evelyn had stopped talking about that day, afraid the progress that had been made with both girls would be lost. They were attending school, and they seemed content that Seth Bridges was dead and out of their lives. Neither girl would discuss what life had been like with him. They lived with her and Little Fox, and now Evelyn’s concern was more for Black Hawk’s son than for Katy and Lucille. The boy was not doing well in school, and Evelyn knew it was because his mind was on his father. She worried what would happen to him if Black Hawk was hanged or sent away.
So much was still so wrong. Her heart was torn with grief over Black Hawk’s future and Little Fox’s own broken heart; and then there was Many Birds to think about. She still refused to come out of her grandmother’s tipi and return to school or even to everyday living. She had been allowed by the men to sit in the sweat lodge to help purge herself of Seth Bridges’s filthy violation of her body. She had cut off all her hair, had fasted, cut her arms. It sickened Evelyn to think what the girl had suffered, and she prayed for her daily. Somehow, someday, she must get over what had happened. Perhaps she could renew her friendship with Lucy and Katy, come back to school. She knew the best hope for that happening was if Black Hawk were freed.
She tried to concentrate on what was taking place today. John Phillips was marrying Beverly Evans. How she wished it was she and Black Hawk getting married, but that might never happen now. Her heart ached at listening to wedding vows, and she thought of the beautiful Sioux wedding dress Black Hawk had given her—a dress that still lay waiting in her trunk… a dress that might never be worn.
She blinked back tears. Had they been wrong about the vision after all? How could she go on living if Black Hawk was sent away… or hanged? Her only reason for existing then would be to love and care for Little Fox, but the boy’s spirit would be so broken, she wasn’t sure he would ever be the same if something happened to his father. She was more and more suspicious herself that Jubal Desmond might have killed Seth Bridges, but how could it ever be proved? She had asked Colonel Gere to question Desmond, but the man had said that the sergeant had been harassed enough by her. He felt her suspicion was ridiculous and unfounded.
Evelyn looked to her right, where Lucy and Katy sat watching the wedding ceremony. She and Beverly had helped make new dresses for them, and with their hair washed and pulled up into fancy curls, new dresses and shoes, and wearing new woolen coats Evelyn had ordered for them from Omaha through Bill Doogan’s trading post and given them for Christmas, the girls looked lovely. Rest, better food, and being able to socialize had brought them to life, put color in their cheeks. Evelyn thought how she had gradually come to have a family, responsible as she was now for raising the two girls and Little Fox… yet she was only just turned twenty-one, and she had no husband. If something happened to Black Hawk…
Katy turned to look at her. There it was again, that strange look of guilt in the girl’s eyes, combined with sorrow. Evelyn was so sure she was not telling everything, but nothing she said could change Katy’s story. Didn’t they understand what it would do to her to see Black Hawk punished or hanged? Didn’t they understand how much she loved him? Still, if letting an Indian man die somehow meant their own safety, or somehow saved their own reputations, she supposed to young white girls who had probably been taught all their lives that Indians were worthless, it mattered little that one Indian man would suffer. She had stressed to them that Black Hawk was Many Birds’s brother, and that they owed Many Birds any kind of help they could give in helping Black Hawk, yet they continu
ed to insist there was nothing they could do.
Everything would be perfect if not for Black Hawk’s predicament. She was happy to be able to help the girls. The reverend had hired a few Indians and some men from the fort to add two rooms to her cabin so that she and the girls could have their own bedrooms. She put an arm around Little Fox. Somehow she would have to find a way to raise these children alone. She had to hold onto her teaching job but would have to find another way to earn a little extra money, perhaps through sewing. The girls could help her. They were very co-operative, pitched in with the cooking and cleaning, and were learning to sew and embroider.
She turned her attention to the wedding ceremony. She was happy for Beverly, but she knew the woman did not love John Phillips in the same wildly passionate way she had loved Herbert True. Still, she did love him. The reverend was a good man who would be a loving father to her child. Beverly loved him because he was willing to give her son his name and not allow him to be labeled a bastard. She loved him for accepting her just as she was, for understanding that anyone can make grave mistakes in their lives, just as he himself had made the mistake of ignoring Anita Wolf’s sweet and innocent love for him.
So much had happened—so many changes since she first came here. A new missionary couple had finally arrived a week ago. They would live in the back of the church as Phillips had until a home was built for them. John would move into Janine’s old cabin with Beverly. The new minister, Reverend Gale Carter, conducted John and Beverly’s marriage ceremony. His wife, Helen, who would help teach school, sat in the front pew now with the couple’s three children, twelve-year-old Lynette, ten-year-old Johnny, and four-year-old Henrietta, and all three were well-behaved.
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