Savage Abandon

by Cassie Edwards

  Jeb ignored him.

  He ran back to the fallen braves.

  He knelt, reached out and yanked an amulet necklace from around one of their necks.

  He chuckled as he placed the fancy, beaded thong around his own neck.

  “Put it back,” Clint said as he came up and slapped Jeb across the back of his head. “Take it off. Throw the thing away if you ain’t going to put it back around the Injun’s neck again. It can only bring us trouble…bad luck.”

  Jeb turned and glared at Clint. “Don’tcha ever hit me again, or you’ll not live to regret it,” he snarled.

  “Your threats don’t frighten me, Jeb. Now do as I say. Put that amulet back on that Injun, or throw it away,” Clint demanded, his eyes glaring angrily into Jeb’s.

  “Stupid, I’m keepin’ it,” Jeb said, putting a hand protectively over the amulet to keep Clint from grabbing it from him. “Don’tcha know, amulets are worn for good luck.”

  “Stupid, did you see the good luck it brought the savage that wore it today?” Clint asked, laughing sarcastically. “He’s dead, Jeb. Damn dead.”

  Jeb ignored Clint.

  He started running again, and Clint soon caught up with him.

  They ran and ran, until they were both too breathless to take another step, and then they saw the river up ahead through a break in the trees.

  “See?” Jeb said, smiling at Clint. “The amulet’s already brought us good luck. We found the river.”

  “Yep, but we lost two horses and maybe a stack of pelts, too, and I call that bad luck, Jeb,” Clint said breathlessly. All the same, he was relieved to see the shine of water up ahead.

  They would go and hide by the river until night fell; then they would travel alongside the river until they found a moored boat that had tied up for the night, so that its occupants could get some sleep on shore.

  When the travelers awakened the next morning, their boat would be gone and so would Jeb and Clint. They would be out of range of the Indians’ hatred and need for vengeance!

  They looked over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t being followed, then loped onward until they found a thick stand of bushes where they could hide.

  Chapter Four

  Futile the winds

  To a heart in port—

  Done with the compass,

  Done with the chart!

  —Emily Dickinson

  Another day closer to St. Louis, Mia was just about to go rest in the shed when she saw her father grab at his chest and grow pale.

  As he gasped, he dropped the oar on the deck and his pipe fell from his mouth and bounced into the water, sinking slowly into the dark abyss.

  Her heart pounding with fear for her father, Mia rushed to his side and began helping him down on the deck of the scow.

  “Papa, what is it?” Mia cried, struggling with his weight even though he was a thin man.

  “If it ain’t one thing, it’s another,” Harry gasped as he leaned his full weight against Mia.

  Seeing that Tiny Brown offered no help, but instead just stared straight ahead as he continued manning the scow, Mia gave him a dark frown, then helped her father onto the cushion of blankets that were always there, used as his bed at night, or for an occasional rest during the day.

  “What do you mean?” Mia said, concentrating only on her father now.

  She would give Tiny a piece of her mind later.

  She only hoped they could find someone else to board the scow as her father’s assistant in the next town they came to.

  “It’s this heart trouble that I’ve been having,” Harry said, glad to be stretched out on the blankets so that he no longer had to put his entire weight on his daughter. She was so tiny, she looked as though she might blow away in the breeze.

  He glared at Tiny whose back was to them, finding him more and more loathsome as each day passed. The little man had not even offered Mia a helping hand when she needed it the most.

  “Papa, do you think this attack was worse than the others?” Mia asked, on her knees now beside her father. She dipped a cloth down into the river, then wrung it out just before placing it on her father’s sweat-beaded brow.

  “Might’ve been. I don’t know,” Harry said. He closed his eyes and rested as she continued bathing his brow. “It only lasted for a moment.”

  “You’d best not do any more work today,” Mia said, laying the damp cloth aside.

  She eyed the oar that her father had abandoned when he felt the discomfort in his chest.

  The scow, which was propelled by two wide oars called “sweeps,” was designed to be rowed by two men.

  But Mia wasn’t a man. Still, she knew that if they were going to get to shore, where they could put in for the night, she must take up one of the oars.

  Until now, the scow had floated effortlessly, even lazily, along the Rush River, which would eventually run into the Mississippi and finally take them home, to St. Louis.

  Mia knew that helping Tiny get the scow to shore would be grueling work for her. She wished that her parents had never decided to travel so far from their home this time. Instead of enjoyment, this trip had brought them nothing but disaster and sadness.

  “Papa, you just lie there and rest,” Mia said.

  For her papa’s sake, she had to try to appear comfortable with the task that lay ahead of her. Her father’s health came before any discomfort she might feel while helping to row the scow to shore.

  She stood up, sucked in a nervous breath, then stooped over and picked up the oar.

  “Mia, what on earth do you think you’re doin’?” Harry blurted out as he struggled to get to his feet.

  But his recent attack had drained his energy, and with each effort he made to try to get up, his heart went wild inside his chest.

  He realized that he had no choice but to rest and allow his daughter to do the work of a man, something he had vowed never to let happen!

  “Papa, I’ve watched you often enough to know how this is done,” Mia said, lowering the oar into the water.

  She ignored Tiny when he turned around and gawked at her, then gave her a cynical, mocking laugh.

  “Just you shut up,” Mia said, still working the oar although each stroke made her arms feel as though they were going to fall off. “Help me head this thing toward shore, Tiny. We’re stopping for the night.”

  Her eyes widened when just as they floated around a bend in the river, she saw the old abandoned fort that sat a short distance from the banks of the Rush River. She had seen this fort many times before as they had made their yearly trek down the river.

  “Look!” she cried. “It’s the old fort. You can tell that it’s abandoned. Tiny, help me get there. We’ll set up camp at the fort for the night.”

  Suddenly Georgina burst into song, sending her lovely melody into the air.

  Mia looked over her shoulder at her canary, smiled at her sweetness, then continued working hard to pull the oar through the water.

  “That damn bird and its screeching noise,” Tiny growled as he helped head the scow toward land. “I don’t know why you keep that aggravating thing on board this scow. It ain’t a proper place for you to have a bird, and I wish you wouldn’t force me to listen to its nonsense.”

  “You aren’t the sort of man who would enjoy the lovely music that my canary serenades us all with,” Mia said, frowning at Tiny. “She is a piece of heaven on earth. But someone like you doesn’t recognize goodness when you see it. You’re too full of spiteful meanness.”

  She glanced down at her father, who had fallen asleep, then frowned at Tiny again. “As soon as we reach the next town, you’re history, Tiny,” she said smugly. “We’ll find someone who’ll be willing to help us get back to St. Louis without constant griping. It’s a city of opportunity. Everyone wants to experience it.”

  “Oh, jist shut up,” Tiny growled out. “You’ll never be able to replace me, so just relax and enjoy my company.”

  Mia visibly shuddered. She was so w
orn out and dispirited, and his spiteful tongue wasn’t helping one iota.

  She was beginning to feel that they would never reach St. Louis while her father was still alive. It seemed so far away now that her father was ill.

  She glanced down at him again. She felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes as she saw just how weak he suddenly seemed to be. She was afraid that he might die if she couldn’t get him some help, but she had no idea how far they were from the next town along the Rush River.

  For now, finding a good resting place seemed the most important thing to do.

  He was so pale.

  And his breathing seemed so shallow.

  Perhaps if she could get him on dry land, away from the constant rocking of the scow, he might be able to get enough rest that on the morrow he would feel as good as new.

  But in her heart of hearts she doubted that. She had never seen him this sick before.

  Now she had only Tiny to depend on. Thank heavens he had made no sexual overtures toward her, for had he done that, her father would have taken his last ounce of energy and shot Tiny, leaving them truly alone on the river.

  But now that her father was so ill, Mia couldn’t help fearing for her safety. She planned to keep an eye on Tiny’s each and every movement once they settled down for the night on dry land.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt the bottom of the river with the tip of her oar. They were close enough now for Tiny to jump off and pull the scow to shore, as her father had always done before he began having these spells. Tiny had been doing it now for the past week.

  She looked over her shoulder at her father when the scow was finally secured against the embankment. Tiny had just finished tying up to a sturdy tree.

  Her father was sound asleep. She hated to disturb him.

  But she knew that he would be better off once he was on dry land and away from the constant movement of the scow. He would rest much more comfortably.

  And she was sure that rest was the most important thing now for her father. She just wished she knew how far they were from a doctor.

  She would not rest until she heard a physician say that her father wasn’t in any immediate danger, that all he needed was plenty of rest, that which he had not had since the journey back to St. Louis had begun.

  She knelt down beside her father and eyed the abandoned fort, then looked over at Tiny. “Tiny, I think it’s best that you go and investigate the fort before we help Father there,” she said. “I don’t see any sign of life, but we should just make sure.”

  “Probably only a coon or two makin’ their home there,” Tiny said over his shoulder as he began walking toward the fort.

  He laughed throatily and went onward, soon disappearing behind the dilapidated walls.

  “What’s going on?” Harry asked, awakening with a start. He was so used to the constant movement of the scow, that when it was stopped, he knew it even in his sleep. “Where are we?”

  “Papa, we’re tied up now,” Mia murmured. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and cringed at its cold wetness, the sort of perspiration that came only when one was ill.

  “Tiny is inspecting the old fort that we’ve seen before,” she said. “We’ve got to make sure no one else is living there, although I doubt anyone is. I see no smoke, which means no one has a fire made to prepare food, and I hear no sounds coming from that direction.”

  At that moment, Georgina suddenly broke into song again, breaking the stillness of only moments ago.

  Mia looked quickly at her bird, for the first time wishing she would be quiet. She wanted to be able to hear if someone was living at the fort, or making camp nearby.

  Mia knew that Indians lived somewhere along this stretch of the river, and she had no wish to encounter them.

  She hadn’t caught sight of any Indians since she had seen the one who took her mother’s life with his bow and arrow. Since then she had seen only deer and other forest animals through the brush and trees.

  “Coast is clear!” Tiny shouted as he reappeared at the open gate of the fort. He waved his arms and hands toward Mia. “Come on. See for yourself.”

  “Shush up, Tiny,” Mia said, her spine stiffening as she realized that his voice was echoing throughout the trees that surrounded the fort, carrying to God only knew whose ears!

  Tiny frowned at her, then returned to the scow. “You can tell that some animals have frequented the place, but there are several cabins for us to choose from for our night’s stay,” he said, already gathering supplies from the shed. “I’d say the larger one would be best for us. I imagine that’s where the big shots made their residence. It seems to be in the best shape.”

  “Tiny, be sure to gather up all of the blankets and go and make a pallet for Father first,” Mia said, holding her father’s hand as he moved slowly to a sitting position. “Then come back for him. I shall gather together what I believe we’ll need for the night. Is there a place inside the fort where I can warm up the food that Mother canned for us before we started on this year’s trip?”

  “There ain’t only a fireplace but also a small pot-bellied cooking stove,” Tiny said. He bent on his knees before Harry.

  He then swung one of Harry’s arms around his neck. Struggling and groaning, he helped Mia’s father to his feet.

  “Tiny, what are you doing?” Mia gasped, turning pale at her father’s weakness. “I told you to go and prepare my father a place to lie before taking him to the fort.”

  “And who made you my boss?” Tiny said, glaring at Mia. “You drop what you’re doin’ and go ahead of me and you make the pallet. We’ll come back to the scow together later to get the supplies we’ll need for this one night.”

  Sighing heavily, knowing now what a battle she was going to have without her father’s authority to control this tiny, loud-mouthed man, Mia dropped what she was doing and grabbed several blankets. She ran on ahead of Tiny.

  When she got inside the walls of the fort, she stopped and looked slowly around her.

  Though people had obviously lived there at one time, it was long ago by the looks of things. The fort seemed eerily quiet now, as though ghosts were there, eyeing her.

  She counted ten cabins in all, but only one of them still had a roof, and that was the one Tiny was walking into now, helping her father along beside him.

  “This one, Mia,” Tiny said over his shoulder. “Come on. Hurry. Spread out the blankets. Your father ain’t no lightweight, you know.”

  Mia ran past him, and when she got inside, she again stopped and looked around her. It was cold and damp, and in disrepair.

  Cobwebs clung from one side of the room to the other.

  She shivered when she saw the remains of some animal, only its bones lying there.

  “Well?” Tiny said, impatiently waiting for her to spread the blankets. “We ain’t got all day, you know. I’d like to get a fire going and get our stuff in here with us before night falls. Who knows what or who might come upon us and…”

  “That’s enough, Tiny,” Harry growled out. He found the strength to yank himself away from Tiny. He went slowly over to Mia and reached for the blankets. “Here, darlin’. Let me help you.”

  “Papa, are you feeling better?” she asked, eyeing him hopefully. “You do have some of your color back. And you seem to be able to stand there without assistance, whereas earlier, I…”

  “Just you quit frettin’ over this ol’ man, do you hear?” Harry said, bending over enough to drop the blankets to the floor. “But I do think I’ll let you spread out the blankets for me and make me a soft bed for the night.”

  Mia did this quickly, then placed a gentle hand on his arm as he slowly sank down onto the blankets, sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

  “I just need a wink of sleep, that’s all,” Harry said. He opened his eyes for long enough to smile up at Mia. “Better go and get Georgina. She ain’t used to being away from you for long. You’re like two peas in a pod. You’ve hardly ever been separated since y
our mama purchased her for you.”

  “Yes, I’d best go and get her,” Mia said, scrambling to her feet. She looked over at Tiny. “Then I’ll fetch the rest of the things. You just go and gather wood and get a fire going in both the fireplace and the stove. I’d like to prepare something warm for Papa tonight.”

  Tiny glared at her and brushed past her as he went outside.

  As she stepped from the cabin, she saw him hurry out through the wide, open gate of the fort. She followed him, but she headed toward the scow while he turned toward the darker depths of the forest where he would gather wood.

  “I wouldn’t put it past him to just run away and find someone else’s company for his trip to St. Louis,” she whispered to herself as she ran to the scow.

  Yes, it would be just like him to leave them stranded, but she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t, even though she despised him with every fiber of her being!

  “We’ll be alright, won’t we, Georgina?” she said as she stepped aboard the scow, where her tiny yellow bird was springing from one of its perches to the other, its eyes never leaving her.

  Mia hurriedly gathered up what she felt she would need for the night, placed everything in a travel bag, then swung it from the scow to dry land, and slung it over her shoulder.

  Then she turned and grabbed up the cage by its handle and took it to the cabin, setting it on the far side of the room from the spot where her father lay, so that when Georgina began singing she wouldn’t wake him up.

  Mia paused long enough to look at her father again, something inside her telling her that he might be worse than he had tried to claim. He rarely dropped off to sleep this early in the evening. And he still seemed to be breathing shallowly.

  All of these things made her feel terribly anxious, for she knew that if anything happened to her father, she would find it hard to make it in this lonely world with only her bird as a companion.

  She turned with a start at the sound of footsteps entering the cabin, breathing a sigh of relief when she found that Tiny had returned. He brought with him an armload of wood.