Rescued from the River

by Stephy Smith

  “I’m sorry, but this is the way it will be. I am not a part of his army and he will not tell me where and when I need to be somewhere. I told him earlier I am tired and I intend on resting after the long walk into the fort this morning. I do not wish to talk to anyone else tonight.” She slammed the door shut and leaned against the solid wood. The guard’s footsteps faded as he left.

  With a deep breath, she quelled her shakes and slipped into her nightclothes. She lay on the bed and thought of Kale. With ease, her eyes closed with the vision of his smile.

  * * * *

  Sunshine filtered in the window. Wide awake, she wiped her eyes and shook the confusion from her head. The reality of being in her little house alone hit her hard. Her gut twisted, she rose and set coffee to boil. The green dress hung on the line in front of the fireplace and she slipped into it.

  The table felt empty. The coffee didn’t taste as good when drinking alone. Loneliness stuck in her heart. Her world faded into a nightmare. A flick of her wrist tossed the coffee and she headed through the door. Pausing, she stopped in front of the trading post and then entered.

  Sally stood by the counter, pelts piled on a cart. The softness of the fur tickled Emma’s fingers as she ran her hand across. The fur was soft, but the skin stiff. With a tight clench of her fist, she picked one up and inspected it. Enough of Kale’s sat in the cabin that she knew this wasn’t one of his, and she let it fall back in the pile.

  “Morning, Bright Eyes.” Sally smiled at Emma.

  “Good morning, Sally. Can I stay here and help you today? I don’t want to be in that house any longer than necessary.” Her shoulders slumped and she lowered her eyes to the pile of pelts. Her mind drifted to the trapper she longed to see. Being near the pelts gave her a small amount of pleasure. In some way, she felt close to Kale.

  “Yes. You stay. I welcome your company anytime. I grow fond of you.” The excited voice of Sally lifted her spirits.

  Emma fought the urge to ask about Kale. She would have to wait for the opportunity to arise on its own. With doubt in her mind, she hoped it would present itself soon. Her heart fluttered a bit under Sally’s curious stare.

  “What would you have me do?” Emma glanced around and grabbed the cart. “I can take the pelts to the back for you.”

  Sally ran around the counter. “No! Too soon. Heavy work make your chest open again. No need that.”

  Emma’s chest tightened. She wanted to look at the pelts to find the days Kale brought his in.

  “Come, I show you.” Sally motioned for her to follow to the back of the trading post. “You separate pelts. Feel fur, check holes, check straight cut, check size and waste of each pelt.”

  Sally reached for a pelt and instructed Emma how to grade them and set them in separate piles according to value. A customer’s voice sent Sally rushing across the floor to the front.

  Emma eyed the pelts then reached down and picked two up. With her eyes closed, she felt each fur separately. One pelt was thicker, softer, and more pliable than the other. She gave it a good grade. Then she inspected the skinning process. Clean, even cuts earned the pelt another good rating. Pelt after pelt, she continued until the pile disappeared.

  Sally checked Emma’s work. A smile crossed her face. “You quick learn. Next pile same thing.”

  With a quick glance around the room, she checked for more pelts. Ten piles of pelts lay in carts waiting to be graded. She sighed and walked to the next pile. After three piles, Sally announced it was closing time. Dread churned her stomach with the news of having to leave her newfound sanctuary.

  Exhausted and exhilarated, she made her way down the wooden walk to her house. She held her head high, her lips turned up, and nodded at curious stares. A stranger stood in front of her home. The air sucked in her lungs as she continued.

  “I’m Clem Williams, the new schoolmaster.” The tall man removed his hat.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Williams. I’m Miss Donley.” She waited for the man to say more. His strange stares alerted her to be cautious of the man and his words. She felt discomfort at his presence and the questions he would ask.

  “I would like to ask you a few questions. If you don’t mind?” His voice was dull and unemotional.

  “I will answer your questions as long as they don’t pertain to the abduction.” Emma cocked her head at him. She suspected he wanted to know about her plight, and glared in his eyes a long moment before he spoke.

  “I think I should be going then, Miss Donley.” He fingered the edge of his hat, his eyes lowered to his hands. He nodded and backed away before he pivoted through the door and up the wood walk.

  Holding the key in her hand, she laughed to herself as she entered the door. A satisfied weakness settled in her body as she collapsed in the rocking chair near the fireplace. The air in the cabin was cool and she bent to throw a log in the fire. After a few minutes rest, she cooked her supper, and ate while reading one of her favorite storybooks. Her heart yearned to be a schoolteacher. She loved children and missed having them tug at her skirt and laugh on the play yard.

  Chapter Six

  On the walk back to his cabin, Kale shivered as the sun dulled from the cover of thin gray clouds. The wind whipped around, parting the front of the coat to let the cold bite his skin. Threatened by the chatter of his teeth and stiff jaws, he wondered when and if he would make it back to the fort in a few days. Sharp needle pricks assaulted his moccasin-covered feet as he trudged through the snow and slush.

  At the fort where his heart stayed behind with Bright Eyes, he replayed the fear on her face. Heart plummeting into the pit of his stomach, he didn’t know when he’d grown to care for her. He didn’t care when it had happened. All he cared about was that it had. With one last quick twist around to glance at the fort, he fought the urge to return. He shook his head, pulled his coat tighter around his neck, and continued to the empty cabin on the mountainside.

  Sun rays shimmered off the snow. His eyes stung from the sudden brightness and dullness when the clouds passed between the earth and the sun. Water formed in the corners of his eyes and slid down to chap his cheeks with the help of the wind.

  Disgust filled his heart at the people in the fort. They pushed him around as if he was nothing. Their deliberate attempt to keep him from reaching Bright Eyes’ outstretched hand confused him. They’d whisked her from his sight and took her into the commander’s office. His mother’s smooth touch had stilled his desire to punch the men.

  He couldn’t get her image out of his mind. As the men had dragged her by her arms, her head twisted back and tears fell down her cheeks. He’d called out to her, but his words had been drowned out by the endless questions thrown her way. She tried to stop them from taking her away, but she was at their mercy. Had he stepped in, it would have resulted in a night or two in jail. He wouldn’t mind going to jail, but he could do no good to Bright Eyes if he was behind bars.

  A short pull from his mother had led him to the trading post. The calming tea she prepared persuaded him to return to the mountain with a promise of bringing Bright Eyes to him one day soon. To him, soon wasn’t soon enough. With each step down the path, his stomps splashed slush to his pant legs and the bottom of his long coat, forming icicles.

  Morgan had done it this time. He would find a way to stop the evilness of the man higher upon the mountain. His head rose to the frozen top where Morgan’s cabin stood. The cabin that had once held a loving family with happy children and a peaceful existence, but was now occupied by Satan himself, perched on a throne and ignored by the people of the fort.

  The empty cabin he lived in came into sight. Heaviness weighed on his heart, causing it to sink lower than he ever imagined. It even felt empty and lonely on the outside. He walked by, glanced at the window and headed to the river to retrieve his pelts from the traps. A frown settled on his lips. He couldn’t bear the thought of stepping inside the empty cabin. Bright Eyes’ memory was still fresh in his mind, as were the people of the fort who
separated them.

  A wolf’s call came out of nowhere. It was as if the wolf was singing to his heart. He felt the sting of its howl. He ducked his head to the ground and walked to the river. The people of the fort boiled his blood. The process of taking the pelts and setting the traps grew harder. With the last one done, he started back down to the cabin with an ache in his heart.

  Embers warmed the chill in the cabin. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed on another log to bring the glowing embers to a magnificent blaze. The cave in his chest collapsed his lungs. He shook his head and prayed to the spirits to bring Bright Eyes home. Never in his life had he thought he would be lonely and desire the company of a white woman. Now, with her light laughter, the warmth of her heart missing from the cabin, it had become just a shell over his head to keep out the blizzards and rain. It lost its feel of a real home.

  He didn’t like the feel of the cabin. It was too empty, too dead. Her spirit no longer filled the air and her laughter no longer soothed his ears. Her smile no longer greeted him when he came through the door.

  Hunger eluded him and faded into darkness like the sun. With minimal effort on his part, he skinned the rabbit he’d caught in a trap and he placed it on the spit over the fireplace. Natural juices fell on the logs, pops brought about sparks, but the vision of the woman no longer danced in the flames. The vision twisted into a memory he would never let leave.

  He rested his head in his hands. For the first time in years, he let his tears flow down his cheeks. Sobs took over his lungs and he hoped the spirits would understand his desire to cut the throats of the men in the fort for taking Bright Eyes from him. His savage thoughts of what he would do to Morgan when presented the chance drove him to heated anger once more.

  The realization hit him; he let his anger rule his heart and shift his thoughts. With his mind set, he thought of things he could send to Bright Eyes. Glancing around, he searched to find items to make her want to come home where she belonged. How could she know this was where she belonged? He’d never said a word about wanting her to stay. She may not want to return to the cold, hard life on the mountain. She seemed happy. How could she not want to return?

  There were so many questions, and yet he could not say what was in her heart. His mother told him she thought Bright Eyes had feelings for him. Bright Eyes never mentioned any feelings herself. Kale felt he was hoping against hope.

  Day after day, he walked the river to fetch his pelts. The pounding in his chest intensified. Each day passed was a day closer to carting them to the fort. His eyes hungered for the beauty that rested in his soul. It had been a week and, in a few days, he would make the trip. The hunger ripped his heart as the days lasted longer than they should have. His impatience wrestled with want and desire.

  Desire to check on Bright Eyes burned deep within his soul. Many nights he woke with the memory of gunshots and her bloody body tangled amidst twigs and branches in the cold river. Sleep eluded him after the dreams passed. He sat alone in silence so still it set his hair to stand on the back of his neck. Gunshots rang in his mind and he searched the river when he went to his traps.

  One of the mornings he went to his traps, all his pelts were missing. He relocated them and followed the footsteps in the snow to Morgan’s cabin. Everyone in the fort knew Morgan’s skins were not quality pelts. They also knew he wouldn’t take them to Tucker’s trading post.

  Eyes averted to the mountain, Kale could feel the presence of Morgan nearby. Choosing his steps carefully, he veered from the river, luring Morgan away from the traps he relocated. He led him closer to a small stream running down the mountain. The rustle behind him alerted his senses. He knew he was in dangerous territory, but kept his guard as he lingered in the area for a small time gathering wild onions and berries.

  Morgan’s noisy laughter sent shivers down Kale’s spine. Kale knew the man wouldn’t try to capture him. He was of no use to Morgan. They’d had the discussion before. At the time, Kale refused to turn his pelts over to Morgan. Without regret, he still stood by his decision not to be bullied.

  Kale trained his eyes on the mountain then headed to the fort. Morgan stopped following him as he wound his way back to the cabin. He would report Morgan’s thefts of his pelts and his pursuit of him across the mountain to everyone in the fort and not just the law. The authorities would do nothing. Their fear of Morgan amazed Kale. However, at least they would have another complaint to add to the pile from others.

  Morgan always dismissed the warnings he received. Trappers and citizens of the fort alike complained about the man. He tormented and scared the women and children. His visits to the saloons raised fights with the army, as well as others in the establishment. No matter what happened, Morgan ignored the many attempts to run him off the mountain.

  Kale vowed, one day, he would rid the fort and the mountain of the vermin. His anger grew to an unavoidable level. He hadn’t liked the man before, and he sure didn’t like him since he’d hurt his Bright Eyes. Many nights long ago, he’d heard calls of help from the torture Morgan inflicted on innocent people. Most of the calls came from the fort and were ignored by the troops and citizens alike.

  All respect of the fort to keep people safe no longer existed. Bright Eyes was no safer there than in Morgan’s cabin. Chills ran down his spine. The urgent tug to find her at the fort and bring her home bore into him. Pelts piled high on the sled were ready to go. Kale’s heart leapt, and his mind raced ahead to greet her with open arms.

  He snuffed the light and lay on the mat on the floor. His eyes refused to rest. Excitement gathered in him at the thought of seeing his woman once more. He took the pillow from the bed and buried his face in the sweet smell of her. He let out a sigh and lay back on the mat.

  * * * *

  The hot morning coffee floated in the cabin. After a cup, he walked down the mountain with the sled. His steps were hurried, the sun shined bright, and the wind whipped bitter, cold air. Outside of the fort, he saw Morgan heading to the entrance. Once inside, Kale walked to the trading post and dropped off his sled.

  Woman With Small Voice motioned him to take his pelts to the back. Kale pulled his sled in the storeroom. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the long, black braid hanging down the slender back. The green dress snuggled her waist and hung to the floor.

  “Bright Eyes.” His voice was almost a whisper. She twirled around and bounded into his arms. Tears ran down her cheeks and the smile on her face caught his breath.

  Kale breathed in the freshness of her hair. He wiped the tears from her soft cheeks. His lips went to hers and he kissed her with passion. Holding on tight, he never wanted to release her from his grasp. He stepped back to burn the image into his memory. His drumming heart delighted in the warmth of her laughter.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” Emma whispered on his neck.

  “Why? I’m happy to see you. You look well. Are you healed?” He held her at arm’s length.

  “I think so, but doc Sally in there says no. She has me grading pelts. She won’t let me pull the carts back. She says I will ‘open my chest’ again.” Emma rolled her eyes and then giggled.

  “She loves you like a daughter.” Kale smiled and ran his fingers over her soft skin. “I know. I am her son and she was like that with me when I was growing up.”

  “I miss the mountain.” Emma’s head lowered. Kale’s heart raced. A lump formed in his throat and his mind reeled with her confession. He couldn’t believe his ears.

  At a loss for words, Kale shook his head. “How is everything else going with you?”

  “Kale, they are trying to blame you for shooting me. I have tried to tell them it was Morgan and they refuse to listen to me.” She gazed into his eyes. He read the hurt and confusion in them. How could he expect her to understand since she had only been west for a short time?

  “Bright Eyes, this is the way it will always be with my life.” He straightened his shoulders and stepped closer to her.

  “It’s not rig
ht. They should not accuse you of things they were not there to see. Why do they take up for someone like the evil Morgan?” Her brow furrowed and she cocked her head. He saw the tears form in her eyes. She pulled away from his hold and walked back to the pelts.

  “For whites, it is easier to understand a mean white man than an honest Indian.”

  Emma’s head snapped to him at his words. “It’s still not fair. The man’s cabin reeks of dried blood. I don’t believe it came from animals either. There were no bones scattered around. I’m sure there would still be carcasses if it were animals.” Emma’s eyes widened and her voice quaked.

  “You must be careful what you say, Bright Eyes. You are an outsider here. They will not listen to you as they would a long time resident of the fort. These people do not take kindly to something they do not understand. They think you are trying to protect me. Just keep telling them the truth and, one day, they will learn you can be trusted.” Kale slipped his hands to her waist.

  “If that is the case, why don’t they believe you?” Emma tilted her head.