by Stephy Smith
Chapter Eight
Kale sat before the council. His heart returned to Emma. Nervousness crossed over him while he waited to plead his case to keep the woman safe from the army and prevent further accusations to his mother’s people. As soon as she could travel, he would take her to his cabin.
His grandfather entered the circle. Kale sat silent; his impatience swelled, but he held his tongue. His eyes fell on the members. He scanned each face and felt they would grant him permission to leave with the white woman.
“You want to take white woman?” his grandfather asked. The old man’s face creased with years of weather beaten furrows. His hands shook with age and his once muscular physique was now nothing more than skin and bones. Kale trembled at the thought of growing old alone.
“Yes. It is the only way to save the village from another massacre like Sand Creek. I do not want our people to fade away with the wind.” Kale pushed his personal thoughts from his mind. He raised himself to sit straight and confident.
“These men, the ones who brought your Bright Eyes to us, do you know why they would do this thing to one of their own?” Grandfather’s steady voice held its even tone.
“Yes. The commander’s brother took Bright Eyes at one time. The commander wants Bright Eyes to say I am the one who harmed her. She will not do as he says. They want to wage war on our people. I will not let it happen.” Kale stared in his grandfather’s eyes.
“Then so be it. When will you take this woman from us?” the old shaman tilted his head to his grandson. His small chest puffed with pride.
“Is she able to travel? The sooner I remove her from the village, the better your chances of peace.”
“Your intentions are honorable, grandson. Your own safety is at risk.” All the elders nodded in agreement with the shaman.
“Yes. I am willing to take a risk. Is she able to leave?” Kale wanted an answer. He attempted to keep his anxiety at bay. The vision of Bright Eyes in his bed once again stirred deeper emotions he tried to dismiss.
“I will send warriors with you. They will warn you of danger.” His grandfather’s eyes held no emotion.
“That is not wise. If the army catches them outside the village, they will attack. More soldiers arrive in the fort each passing day.” Kale glared at his grandfather.
His grandfather looked to the faces of the council. Kale followed his gaze and watched as each man nodded his head in agreement. A strained pounding in his chest and his palms grew wet. He thanked the council and walked from the circle to Bright Eyes.
The decision was final; he could take her home. To his home, where she belonged. He should never have allowed her to remain in the fort. He knew of the evil heart of the commander.
Kale carried Emma to his sled. Sally piled enough pelts on top of her to keep her warm, but not too many to crush her frail body. Once more, he pulled the sled through the snow to his cabin with the limp body of his woman. Sally walked behind the sled. Their watchful eyes scanned the mountain. If any danger presented itself, they would be ready.
For the first time in many years, Kale carried his rifle. Sally carried two pistols and several hunting knives fastened to various parts of her body with leather thongs.
He released a sigh at the sight of the cabin. Kale pulled and Sally pushed the sled inside the door. Kale unpacked his precious cargo and laid her listless body on the bed. Sally pulled the buffalo robe to cover Emma.
Anger burned in his mind. He stared at her ashen face with dark circles under the eyes. Emma’s skin hung from her skeleton with nothing to fill the void. A curse escape under his breath, and he vowed to rid the fort of the Morgans.
His mind traveled to the day he’d taken Emma back to the fort. Her eyes had been torn with pain as the people pushed them further apart. Then the day he had taken his pelts, her eyes filled with tears and pulled at his heart. He should have brought her back home that day, even though she loved working for his mother. He asked the spirits that day to bring her home to him. Now, she was here, and he would make sure she never left again.
His arms longed to hold her. To make things all right. But, her body was too frail and he was afraid he would break her with his embrace. All he could do was watch his mother continue to work with Emma’s arms and legs. The darkened fingers and toes regained color a little at a time with Sally’s healing rubs.
“Get rest, Kale.” Sally turned her head to her son.
“I can’t, I have to check traps. And, I want to see if someone from Morgan’s company followed us here. I didn’t feel anyone behind us, but I have to make sure.” Kale’s broken voice faded as he spoke.
Sally reached for his arm. “She fine, son. I will not let harm come to her again.”
Kale hung a buffalo hide to conceal the bed. He took his robe, draped it on his body, and walked from the cabin with sled in tow. His reluctance to head to the river resembled the fear of a mother bear losing her cub in the forest. He quietly shut the door behind him.
Just outside the cabin, he came face to face with a few men from the fort. His hatred for the men burned inside him. With his shoulders straight and stance planted to the ground, he eyed the men.
“What do you want?” He fingered the knife concealed beneath the buffalo robe.
“Where’s the woman, Tucker?” a harsh voice bellowed.
“What woman?” he asked, equally disgusted at the man who asked.
“Emma Donley, you know what woman.” Kale watched the twinge in the soldier’s jaw.
“At the fort, where else could she be?”
“You know darn good well she ain’t at the fort.” His rifle lay across his arm.
“You lost her again? Don’t look too good for the army.” Kale had waited years to point out their flaws. He had to still his mouth or he would reveal more to the men than he should.
The soldier’s eyes narrowed and fixed on Kale. “Better watch your mouth, breed. I could slit yore throat from ear to ear for disrespected remarks.”
Kale kept his eyes focused on the man, daring him to make his move. Kale’s hand twitched on the handle of his knife. The soldier backed away and mounted his horse.
“Another day, another time, I’ll see you dead, Tucker,” he called over his shoulder.
Kale didn’t move. He waited until the soldiers were out of sight, and strolled for the door. Sally stepped out to meet him.
“They are looking for Bright Eyes.” His eyes turned to the soldiers’ retreating path.
“Many will come,” Sally said.
“They can’t give the location of where they dumped her. That would commit them to her disappearance.” Kale’s mouth twisted at the irony the corner the soldiers back themselves into.
A lone man walked from the tree line. Sally smiled as her husband neared. “People in the fort watched the soldiers move Emma. They know her disappearance was Morgan’s idea.”
“Morgan disgusts me.” Kale couldn’t hold his anger any longer. “He should be pulled from the fort, from the army, from life.”
Mr. Tucker laid his hand on Kale’s shoulder. “Keep calm, son. One day Morgan will get what’s coming to him.”
Sally and Mr. Tucker followed Kale in the cabin. “What do we do until we can prove Morgan took her to the village and dumped her in the bush to die?”
Jerome Tucker smiled at Kale. “Well, one of the people who watched the soldiers move Emma from the fort, he is the governor’s brother. Word has been sent to the governor. Keep Emma hid a few more days. How’s she doing?”
“Seen better days, I’m afraid. But, she’s strong and will recover.” Kale looked to his mother. Kale dismissed the notion to check traps. He’d gotten the answer he needed. “Mother has done extensive work on her already. Will you be staying for supper?”
“For your mother’s cooking, you can bet on it.”
Kale walked to the bed and glanced down at Emma. His chest tightened, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Did I hear voices?” She reached for Kale�
�s hand.
“My father is here now. The soldiers from the fort came looking for you.” She squeezed Kale’s hand when she tensed.
Kale sat in the chair near the bed; he placed his hand on top of hers. “Don’t worry, Bright Eyes. People of importance saw Morgan’s men take you from the fort. It won’t be long before they ship Morgan to jail. If they don’t take his brother with them, he will follow the commander on his own or die on this mountain.”
Emma released the strong hold she had on Kale’s hand. He gazed at the disbelief in her eyes. He had no way to convince her of his sincerity after all she’d been through at the hands of her own people. How could he expect her to believe in a half-breed she barely knew?
With a steady hand, he reached down to smooth a stray hair from her face, then kissed her forehead. His heart twisted at the sight of her sunken face. A vision of his children gathered around her skirt lightened his heart. He shook his head and walked to the table where his mother placed his plate of food.
A knock at the door drew his attention. He let his hand rest on the hilt of his knife. Kale opened the door to the commander. “What do you want?”
“Where did you hide the girl?” Commander Morgan showed yellow teeth.
“I told your men earlier, she was last seen in your care. You tell me what you done with her.” Kale didn’t hide his dislike for the man. Morgan was up to some kind of shenanigan and he was determined to find out what.
“I’ve had enough of you, Tucker.” Morgan’s eyes narrowed and he aimed his rifle to Kale’s chest.
Mr. Tucker appeared behind his son. “Commander Morgan, is there a problem here?”
Morgan’s jaw dropped to his chest. “Your son is hiding Miss Donley and I aim to find her.”
“I think you are mistaken. The woman is not here.” Mr. Tucker squared his shoulders and stepped in front of Kale.
“Where is she?” Morgan persisted. His head twisted to look inside the cabin.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Mr. Tucker stepped closer to the commander. “If you are, Mr. Morgan, you better think twice before you answer. You will not forget who brings food to your table when no one else will. It would be easy for me to lose army rations or close down the trading post to you and your men.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Kale searched his father’s eyes. This was the first time in his life he had seen his father angry. He was certain he would make good of his threat. Shivers ran down his spine as his father unleashed on the commander.
Commander Morgan leered at Mr. Tucker, backed away, and mounted his horse. “We’re not done here.”
Sally poked her head out the door. “Is he gone?”
“Yes. But he will be back. Kale, run to the village and have them send word to the fort a plague has hit the village. Sally, go to the woods and gather some of the poison ivy from around the trees.”
Sally took a flour sack and headed to the woods. Mr. Tucker dragged a chair to the porch and sat with his rifle across his lap. Kale ran the trail to the village.
Kale told his grandfather of his father’s plan. The women were sent to the woods to gather the ivy that put fear in the hearts of the white men. The tribe smeared the ivy over their bodies.
Kale ran back to the cabin. His mother and father had welts all over their faces, arms and legs. He laughed until his mother came at him with the bag. He stood still and regretted laughing at their discomfort. It was an evil necessity to follow along with the others to make this plan work.
“I’m on my way to the fort. Pack the sack of ivy in the pelts. I’ll take a bundle into the doctor. He knows which town people to pick for this plan.” His welt-riddled face gleamed with a smile.
“Do not scratch, husband.” Sally smiled as her husband walked out the door and down the path to the fort.
Chapter Nine
“I don’t like this plan of Mr. Tucker’s.” Emma raised her hand to scratch her face. “I’m sick enough without having this to add to the aggravation.”
Sally wrapped Emma’s hands in cloth to keep her from digging her fingernails into the welts from the ivy.
“Necessary evil, husband call it. To keep you safe, Bright Eyes.” Sally spread aloe on the welts to help relieve some of the itch.
“I know. I still don’t like it.” Her discomfort and weakness clouded her mind. She closed her eyes to will the nasty itch to go away. Kale’s liquid brown eyes filled her visions.
She fought to control her heart. Kale no more cared for her than she cared for her tormentors, whic, wh just happened to be mutual enemies of Kale’s. When this was all over, she would make her way back east and forget about Kale.
Her parents would certainly be worried. They hadn’t received a letter for months. The letter that had fallen to the ground was the last one she’d written. No one had brought it forward or mentioned it being found. She wished she could remember what she had put down on paper.
Emma lifted herself from the bed. She moved to a chair by a window facing the tree-lined mountain. A few birds flittered from treetops to rocks, and then hopped on the ground below, scratching in the dirt before taking a bite of whatever they dug up.
New leaves peeked out in the underbrush while snow still lurked in the shadow of the tall pines. Emma let out a sigh. Sally came to stand beside her.
“It’s lovely. The sun is bright. Did I lose all of winter?” Emma shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t miss the cold weather. She missed many months she could have spent with Kale.
“Most of winter. My people, they suffer in winter. Government give them rotten meat. They no allowed to hunt like in ancestor day. Fate of my people rest in hand of white man.” A faraway look in Sally’s eyes broke Emma’s heart.
“Do you miss living with your people?” Emma cocked her head to Sally.
“At times. My life good. My husband good. My son, he good too.”
Emma felt Sally was leaving something out of her story. A war waged in her mind whether she should ask or leave it to rest.
“Why didn’t you and Mr. Tucker have more children? Is Kale the only one you have?” Emma never heard the family speak of other children.
Sally drew in a deep breath. Emma wished she hadn’t asked as she watched the pain fill Sally’s eyes.
“Two daughters and two sons. Kale was oldest. He was with warriors. Other children killed at Sand Creek.” Sally ducked her head.
Emma knew the story of Sand Creek. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her heart wrapped around her dear friend. Sand Creek Massacre had been a wicked, humiliating battle for the Indians. It didn’t say a lot for the army either. What kind of men would approve of taking the private parts of their victims and display them in a public parade? Emma shuddered. And they called the Indian’s savages.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have pried.” Guilt rose in her chest. She didn’t have anything to do with the massacre. She didn’t know anyone who’d fought that day. There was good army and bad army. Still, none of these thoughts helped her hold her guilt at bay.
“It’s fine. Happened many moons back. I tried to save babies. I tried.” Sally’s voice cracked along with Emma’s heart. Speechless for a moment, she tried not to feel what Sally had endured that day several years ago. She was unable to stop the crush in her chest of losing three children on the same day at the hands of a band of soldiers. She fought her own tears.
She walked away from the window. At the sound of a gunshot, the window glass rushed in the room, and Sally fell to the floor. Red stained the doe skin dress and flowed down her back to pool on the floor.
Emma jumped on top of Sally as the bullets continued to fly in the window. The front door flew open with ferocity. A scream filled the cabin along with the men from the army. Whatever it took, she would protect Sally, even if it meant death to herself.
A gun secreted under the bed caught her eyes. She reached for the gun and pulled the hammer back on it. Shoving Sally’s body as close to the bed as s
he could, Emma rolled and fired a shot at the men approaching her. One of the soldiers fell to the floor. The other three reached her. They tossed the gun away and held her by the arms.
She kicked and screamed, bit and lashed out at the men who took her from the cabin. The evil laughter from the Morgan brothers, the smell of pine mixed with gunpowder and blood, nauseated her. She gagged a few times, and then threw up on one of the men holding her arms. He let go and jumped back.
Her flailing legs made contact with another man. He loosened his grip to bend over holding his crotch. The third man reached up to cover her mouth. She was ready. Her jaws clamped shut on his fingers. She glared at the man and spit out the end of his finger. His cries echoed in the treetops and blood dripped from the stub.
A voice in front of her commanded the men to halt their assault on her. She eyed the man who yelled out the order. Before her stood the governor and his men. Guns drawn, they disarmed the evil men who’d shot Sally and hauled them down the road to the fort.
