by Sara Orwig
Muaahap took a small medicine pouch from her belt. With Belva’s help, they worked Lone Wolf’s shirt up. He stirred, looking at her, and she motioned to him. He removed the shirt, and Muaahap knelt behind him to tend to his back.
While Muaahap worked on Lone Wolf, Belva took White Bird, and they walked away.
That night they sat huddled near Lone Wolf, who slept. White Bird was curled in Belva’s lap, asleep. Muaahap motioned to Belva to stay where she was.
Muaahap moved east down the wash, following its winding course and the tracks of the soldiers’ horses. Satisfied that horses had passed this way earlier, she walked carefully without making noise.
Two hours later, she climbed a bank and scanned the area. A quarter-moon shed enough light to see the mounds on the ground and the horses nearby. Less than half a mile away was the soldiers’ camp and their picketed mounts.
She moved quietly and slowly, remembering times long past when she had ridden with her husband and stolen horses. The soldiers were spread in a circle, their feet toward a burned-out fire. From the condition of the camp, she knew they hadn’t worried about anyone’s attacking them. Utensils were still scattered, and if they had to leave in a hurry, they would have to go without their possessions.
She moved closer, tiptoeing and pausing between steps. Their saddles lay on the ground, and she wished she had the strength to carry one. A gunbelt lay close to a soldier’s head, the revolver in the holster.
Creeping closer, Muaahap knelt only yards away from his head. When she reached for the belt, her fingers closing on the hard leather, he shifted and she froze, staring at him. If any of the men woke and saw her, she wouldn’t be able to escape.
Waiting, listening to one of the men snore, she finally picked up the belt in one swift move. Holding it tightly, she crept away.
She fastened the belt over her shoulder and then picked up an iron skillet and a canteen. As she moved toward the horses, she picked up a blanket.
The soldiers slept without a man on watch. She moved silently to the horses, taking out the knife to cut the ropes to the long metal picket pins. She placed the blanket on one horse and then stuck the pan down the back of her dress, her belt keeping it from falling to the ground. She hung the canteen on her belt. Slowly, she led the two horses away.
Two hundred yards from camp, she looked back at the sleeping soldiers, tempted to return for more horses, but deciding against it.
With a deep breath, she threw herself up on the back of one of the horses and straightened up, holding the rope and moving ahead, leading the other horse.
When she reached Lone Wolf, all of them were asleep, Belva curled around White Bird.
Muaahap shook Lone Wolf, patting his cheek until finally he raised his head.
She motioned to go and doubled her fists with thumbs down to indicate soldiers. Groaning, Lone Wolf sat up, pain stabbing him, his legs and back feeling on fire.
He studied Muaahap as she continued to make the sign of soldiers. He heard a soft whicker and turned to stare at two horses. Astounded, he looked at Muaahap. She had taken the horses from the soldiers! The Comanche could get horses better than anyone. They had taken horses out from under the noses of soldiers before, but it had been agile warriors in their prime, not a little old woman who jingled when she walked. She gave him a sly grin and stood up.
He stared in amazement as she unbuckled a gunbelt. Feeling a surge of hope and strength, he returned her grin, holding his fists in front of him and raking his right fist down in the sign for bravery. Almost laughing out loud, she pulled an iron skillet from the back of her dress.
Ignoring the pain for a moment, he stood up with an effort, groaning because it felt as if flames licked at his flesh. He reached out to hug her. This time, she did laugh—and gave him the gunbelt.
He took the belt from her and then realized he couldn’t wear it until his back healed. He put down the gunbelt and motioned to her, signing a question. Where were the soldiers?
She pointed east, and he guessed they had ridden down the draw. Looking at Belva and White Bird, he wondered how they had escaped the soldiers’ notice, suspecting Muaahap had fashioned them a hiding place in the junipers. He gestured to the north and waited while Muaahap bent to waken Belva. In minutes he was mounted on one horse with a sleeping White Bird in front of him while Belva and Muaahap rode pillion on the other.
As they headed north, he kept looking toward the east for any sign of the soldiers, judging they had about two more hours until sunup and needed to get as far north as possible. The sun would be behind the soldiers, an advantage to him. He tried to close his mind to thoughts about Vanessa, knowing he couldn’t ride back for her without help, bitterness gnawing at him with the knowledge that the captain had already possessed her.
Lone Wolf’s fists clenched and he turned to look over his shoulder to the west, wanting to ride back to get her. He wasn’t physically able now and he had to get White Bird and Belva to safety. He remembered standing on the parade ground, facing Vanessa. She had lifted her chin, and her green eyes had widened, filled with pain. The thought of parting from her had torn through him as badly as the loss of Eyes That Smile.
When White Bird had broken free to run to Vanessa, he had wanted to charge across the parade ground and smash his fist into the captain’s face. He had held back because he had known it would have gotten him killed and White Bird and Belva and Muaahap needed him.
Now, he glanced at Muaahap, realizing she didn’t need him as much as he had thought. He wondered about her age. She was pleased with herself and she had a right to be. And when he had a chance, he would give her a horse and get a bracelet and earrings fashioned for her because now with horses and a gun they had a chance to escape and survive.
Dawn came in pink streaks, and he continued to watch the east, knowing they needed to turn soon and ride in that direction if he wanted to get back to the Kiowas.
His thoughts shifted back to the captain, who had made a bargain with Vanessa but had then sent out soldiers, breaking his promise. Lone Wolf guessed that they were sent to kill and that the captain’s word had proved worthless. Captain Milos. He had heard the men say his name. And laugh about the captain and Vanessa. Anger surged in Lone Wolf. He intended to meet the captain again.
Frustrated, he ached for Vanessa, hurting over leaving her and surprised at the depth of the hurt. How had she won her way into his heart?
He thought of the nights with her in his room, the hours of talk and kisses and lovemaking. And her determination to rescue Phoebe. When had Vanessa become a vital part of his life? A future without her seemed empty, and he ached more than he would have ever guessed.
He thought about his marriage proposal and her solemn acceptance. Now he wished he could do it over and tell her that he wanted her for his wife because he wanted her at his side, because he loved and needed her.
He looked back over his shoulder. He would recover from his wounds and the beating. Then he would take a war party and they would ride back to get her, and he would kill the captain for Tainso and for Vanessa.
By midday, he was exhausted and in constant pain. They found a river and Muaahap insisted on tending his back. They moved away from the others, and he stripped to let her apply her medicine, finally getting relief.
They mounted again and rode east another three days into grassy country. By the third night, as the moon rose high overhead, Lone Wolf rode in the lead. Scanning the horizon, he spotted the slash in the earth and rode toward it. As they neared, he could see a wide chasm.
In another half-mile, Lone Wolf rode to the rim to look down into a deep canyon. Moonlight splashed on the landscape as he gazed below with satisfaction.
Smoke curled skyward from the large circles of tipis. He motioned to the others and began the careful descent, glancing back over his shoulder once more, feeling as if he had left his heart behind with Vanessa, knowing his grief for Eyes That Smile had ended, that now Vanessa Sutherland held his heart.
<
br /> He turned on the horse, the north wind whipping against him, the pale moon above, and he thought about Vanessa beneath the same moon. “I’ll come for you,” he said quietly. “Wait, my heart, because I will be back.”
Twenty-two
Five days later, Vanessa sat across from Dupree as they finished breakfast. Through the window she saw a soldier striding toward the captain’s quarters.
“Someone’s coming,” she said, and a sharp knock followed her words.
“Come in,” Dupree called, pushing back his chair to turn toward the door.
A sergeant entered and saluted, and Dupree returned the salute. Then the sergeant’s gaze shifted to Vanessa, and he stared.
“Karns?” the captain asked, his voice rising in curiosity.
“Sorry, sir,” the man said as his gaze returned to Dupree.
“What do you mean, sorry?” With a scrape of his chair, Dupree stood. “Step outside. Excuse me, Vanessa, military business.” He spoke curtly and closed the door behind himself and his officer. She contemplated the look the sergeant had given her, and a chill ran down her spine. She slid out of her chair and rushed to the door to listen because she was sure whatever he had to tell Dupree concerned Belva.
“What the devil? Why couldn’t you find them? He was half-dead!”
As she eavesdropped, Vanessa frowned. Lone Wolf hadn’t appeared half-dead when he had walked out of the fort. His head had been bloody, but he had walked away. What had Dupree done to him?
“What!”
At the outburst from Captain Milos, her attention shifted back to the men. She leaned even closer to the door.
“How in hell could someone get into a camp of eight soldiers and steal two horses?”
“I don’t know, sir. I just know they were gone. We’re in Comanche territory, and you know how they take horses right under…”
His words trailed away, and Vanessa returned to the breakfast table. The soldiers hadn’t found Belva and the others. Where were they? Had they gotten away safely?
She heard Dupree raise his voice again, but she was unable to distinguish what he said. However, there was no mistaking his anger and she took a perverse pleasure in it and the fact that the soldiers had not found Belva.
When the door re-opened, Milos stormed inside. “I’m going to my office. You can walk back to your place, Vanessa. Sorry, but I have business to attend to.”
“Where’s Belva?”
His eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t know. My men couldn’t find them. I’ll send out another detachment to search for her. I want her here when your father arrives.” He took his hat from a peg and left, slamming the door behind him.
She watched him from the window, her thoughts on Belva and Lone Wolf. Where were they? Had they gotten safely away and the soldiers couldn’t pick up the trail?
On Tuesday, Dupree had taken her to Tucumcari to get material. He had also returned to her what little remained of her gold and greenbacks. Most of the money she had spent or sent with Phoebe. But she had had enough to purchase yards of blue velvet and purple gingham and order a pair of shoes. And as they rode around Tucumcari, she had tried to get a feeling for the town. In the dry goods store, she had asked the direction to the Canadian River.
Now, while she wondered about Belva and the others, she returned to her small room to go back to her sewing, bending over the velvet and thinking about Lone Wolf.
That night Vanessa paced her room, her white nightgown billowing around her. She had to get away from Bascom before her father arrived. He would either make her marry Dupree Milos right here at the fort or he would get an army escort and go with her to the convent in Denver.
If only she knew where Belva was. Vanessa rubbed her head, feeling certain Belva was still with Lone Wolf and that they had reached his people.
He had said that in the winter they camped and didn’t move around as they did in the summer. If she could escape, could she find him? He had drawn a map in the dirt of where they were going from Tucumcari, where he thought his people would now be camping.
She could remember Lone Wolf’s deep voice as he had told her, “…There’s a canyon about fifty miles south of where you were, I think that’s where they’ll be…”
She rubbed her head again, knowing the first problem was to get away from Bascom or Tucumcari.
All during the next day she pondered ways to escape and what she would need to take with her. She sewed the velvet dress. She had chosen the fabric because it would be warm on the cold winter nights, and she had lined the skirt with several deep pockets in which she could hide things to take with her. She spent hours sewing when Dupree was away during the day. That night at dinner, she asked him to take her to Tucumcari again because she needed more material to complete her dress.
He obliged, coming to get her Saturday morning. As she opened the door, his gaze raked over her and desire flared in his eyes. He stepped inside to look at her again, his gaze going over the velvet dress.
“You look beautiful, Vanessa!” he said.
“This is a fancy dress for a ride to town, but I’ll be warmer,” she said, pulling the woolen cape around her, aware that the pockets on the underside of the velvet skirt held her gold. She had carefully wrapped the coins so they wouldn’t jingle, lightly stitching them into the pockets along with the greenbacks. Only if he picked her up would Dupree notice anything awry.
“I won’t argue with you. You look wonderful in that dress,” he said, helping her with the cape, his hands roaming over her shoulders. He pulled her into his arms to kiss her.
She stood quietly, longing to shove him away and hating his kiss, but knowing she had to cooperate or she wouldn’t get to Tucumcari.
He raised his head, his blue eyes blazing with desire. “I want you to marry me, Vanessa.”
“You should wait and marry a woman you love,” she answered, stepping away from him. He followed her toward the door.
“Love is foolish.” Pausing to look at himself in the oval mirror, he smoothed his hair. “Shall we go?”
When she nodded, he took her arm to lead her outside in the sunshine to a waiting buggy. Four soldiers rode behind them, and she glanced at them as they left the fort.
“Is it dangerous to go from here to town?”
“Anywhere on the frontier is dangerous. We fight the Apache, Comanche, Ute. I don’t want to encounter a war party while I’m alone with a pretty woman. And every man on the post is happy to go into town.”
As soon as they reached Tucumcari, he climbed down and came around to help her out of the buggy, his hands closing around her waist as he swung her to the ground.
“I want to go to the dry goods store. I need to get material and some feathers and ribbon for a bonnet,” she said. “Mr. Slocum has such pretty things,” she added, remembering that on the first trip Dupree hadn’t left her side, but his boredom with her shopping had been plain.
Dupree looked beyond her as if his attention was elsewhere. “How long will it take?”
“I like to take my time and look at everything.”
“Vanessa, you like to shop too much for you to have ever been happy with that redskin. I’ll give you half an hour.”
“You may join me, but I’d like an hour to look. This is the only chance I get to shop and talk to people.”
He glanced across the street at a cantina. “One hour. I’ll come to the dry goods store and meet you.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll take care of the bill, Vanessa.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a broad smile. “But Papa will do that when he arrives.”
“No, I insist.”
She smiled at him again and turned away, glancing back in seconds to see Dupree striding across the street to the cantina. Turning around, she rushed into the general store. She purchased a canteen and a large supply of jerked beef. While she paid for the purchase, her pulse drummed because if Dupree discovered what she was doing, he would know she intended to run.<
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As soon as she had paid, she hurried to the dry goods store, relieved when the door swung shut behind her. She glanced through the oval glass, looking down the street at the cantina. The sun shone brightly and men milled around on the street, but there was no sign of Dupree.
“Morning, Miss Sutherland,” Thad Slocum said, smiling at her, revealing a wide gap between his front teeth.
“Good morning, Mr. Slocum,” she said warmly. “I came to look at material again while Captain Milos runs some errands. You have such pretty things.”
“Look all you want.”
Several men sat around a pot-bellied stove, and a few women shopped. Vanessa drifted down one aisle and moved slowly to another. She inched her way toward the back of the store and paused to watch Thad Slocum and his customers.
Slocum stood talking to the men, while the women were busy looking at goods. Vanessa quickly moved through the back room and out a back door. She turned, remembering her way to the livery stable, and hurried along the block, her back tingling because if Dupree caught her now or a soldier spotted her, she would go back to Bascom and not be allowed to come to town again.
In the next block she could see the livery stable. The weathered structure had its double doors thrown open; a horse was tethered in front at a hitching rail. The smell of horses and straw was strong.
She passed the livery stable and then turned in at the back, hurrying to the side to look around the stable. Leaning against the rough boards, she waited, and in a minute heard two men talking.
She looked again as they walked outside, a horse between them. They turned toward the sorrel tethered to the rail. Vanessa rushed behind them toward the open door and slipped into the stable.
To her relief the place was empty. Without hesitation she ran to a ladder to climb into the loft. She heard the men returning and lay down in the hay, praying they wouldn’t come up.
