Tame the Wild Wind

by Rosanne Bittner

  She looked around, studying the horizons in every direction. There was still no sign of Tall Bear. Would the others manage to kill him? She didn’t know whether to hope that he returned, or that she would never see him again.

  She took the milk and eggs inside. She realized then that her dress was buttoned crookedly. What a sight she must be, her hair all askew from not having even combed and braided it yet that morning, her dress on crooked, no camisole or slips underneath.

  She used the skirt of her dress to grab hold of one of the iron lids on top of the cookstove, lifting it to add yet another piece of wood to the fire beneath it. She replaced the lid and set a black fry pan on top, quickly cooking Johnny some scrambled eggs, then set them in front of him with a cup of milk. “Try to use the spoon, Johnny, not your fingers.”

  He was grinning now, apparently beginning to feel better about things.

  While Johnny was eating, Faith took care of the bodies outside. She set her rifle against the broken-down stagecoach and took a deep breath before allowing herself to look again at the dead man who still lay there. She knew she couldn’t drag the body very far, as he was quite hefty, so she decided to pull him over to the barrels, where another of the outlaws lay dead, the one she had shot in the face. She would try not to look at him too closely.

  She turned around, positioning herself between the dead man’s legs and picking up his booted feet, clamping one foot under each arm and pulling with all her might, feeling like a plow horse as she dragged the body behind her until she managed to get it to the barrels. She dropped the legs, not allowing herself to look at the other man. She dragged some of the water barrels around the bodies then, positioning them in a circle so that it would be difficult for someone riding in to realize there was anything inside the circle. Just to be safe, she tipped a couple of barrels over the tops of the bodies and added a couple more to the circle so that it simply looked like a pile of barrels there and nothing more.

  She hurried over to the horse shed then, dragging the third dead body inside and out of sight. By then she felt nauseated from having to touch the dead bodies, which brought back memories of having to drag poor Johnny so far before he could be buried.

  She took a deep breath, holding her stomach for a moment, then went back out to gather the four horses left behind. She led them into the shed, where they would be out of sight, putting each into a stall but leaving them saddled. She had to get back to Johnny. The horses would have to be unsaddled and brushed down later. She went out and closed the shed door, hoping the dead body left inside wouldn’t make the horses too restless. Hurrying to the water pump, Faith washed her hands vigorously, splashed her face with cold water, then went back to the stagecoach to retrieve her rifle, looking around again. Still no sign of Tall Bear. What if the others had killed him? Would they come back for her? That was her biggest fear.

  She set the rifle against a porch post and walked over to a stack of lumber kept near the station for whatever purpose it might be needed. She picked up two wide boards and carried them inside the station, taking a hammer and a can of nails from a cupboard and placing the boards over the window where Tall Bear had broken out the shutters. He’d seemed like a wild bear when he’d come crashing through, and it gave her a chill to think how strong he was, what he could do to her if he chose. Yet he’d been so kind when he’d helped her with Johnny. She’d seen so much good in him.

  She hammered the boards in place so that the window was covered, then realized the whole front of the depot was pocked with bullet holes. Of course, there had already been many such holes there; perhaps no one would realize these were new.

  She brought in her rifle and closed the door, replacing the thick wooden bar across it. Johnny was sitting on the floor playing with blocks, and she noticed he’d eaten most of his food. She smiled at how good he was most of the time.

  Hurriedly removing her dress, Faith tied on her camisole, then pulled on two slips. She put on a different dress, choosing a blue calico that seemed almost to match the blue of her eyes. Then she brushed and braided her hair, wrapping it neatly around her head.

  After she set aside the mirror, Faith cleaned up the little mess Johnny had left. She could not eat herself, still too upset from the morning events. Dead bodies lay outside, and the outlaws might still return. She shivered. It would be so easy to fall to pieces, which was why she kept trying to think of things to do to stay busy.

  It was after ten now. The stagecoach would not arrive for a good two hours, perhaps longer. Until then she would have to worry and wonder, stay alert, listen for any sign of a horse or horses returning. She walked to the one window that still had shutters, deciding she would stack her guns there to wait.

  The next hour seemed more like ten. Johnny quietly played, and she kept watch through an open shutter on the one good window. Finally she heard the faraway sound of pounding hooves. She picked up her rifle, all senses alert. The sound grew louder when a herd of horses suddenly appeared on the crest of a hill east of the station. She recognized one black one, realized then that they were the Wells Fargo horses one of the outlaws had herded out of there. A man on an Appaloosa with long black hair was whistling at them, guiding them to the station.

  Tall Bear! Somehow he had gotten the horses back and was returning them. She was filled with both joy and apprehension. He drove the horses into a fenced corral and closed the gate, then rode up to the station. Faith opened the shutters fully and watched him through the window. She held her rifle ready. “Where are the rest of them?” she asked, thinking he looked pale in spite of his dark skin.

  “Two are dead,” he answered. He gripped his side, and it was only then she realized he’d been hurt. “One—got away—but he is one who is a coward without many men—to back him up. He will not come back.”

  “You’re hurt!”

  His breathing seemed labored. “I am shot.”

  Faith set the rifle aside. “Come in. Let me help you.”

  He shook his head. “Soldiers are—on their way with the stage. They will—arrest me.”

  “Not if they don’t know you’re here. I’ll put you in the back room and hide your horse. The stage never stays long, and since they’re carrying a payroll, they’ll be in a hurry.”

  Sweat began to show on his face. “How do I know—you will not tell them about me?”

  “You mean, can you trust me?” Their gaze held, and Faith could see he understood the irony of the situation. “The question is, can I trust you?” she added.

  “I suppose—neither of us—has a choice,” he answered. “If I do not—come in soon—I will fall off this horse and you will—have to leave me where I fall.”

  Faith moved to the door and opened it. She stepped outside, looking around again, then went to his horse. “Come on.”

  Tall Bear grimaced as he slid off his horse. He put an arm around Faith’s shoulders, thinking what a small thing she was, but what big spirit and bravery she had. He was highly impressed by how she had defended the station all alone. He managed to make it up the step to the porch and went inside with her. When Johnny saw him, his lips puckered, and fear came back into his brown eyes.

  “It’s all right, Johnny,” Faith assured him. “This is Tall Bear, and he’s hurt. Mommy is going to help him.”

  Tall Bear felt an ache inside to think the little boy was afraid of him, and he was again haunted by the memory of shooting the little white boy. He staggered into the back room and fell onto a cot. Faith felt awkward and unsure as he lay there breathing heavily, blood staining the side of his buckskin shirt.

  “I’d better have a look,” she told him. “You should remove that weapons belt.”

  He unbuckled the belt that held many bullets and a six-gun, as well as the big hunting knife he always carried. Faith set the belt aside. When she pushed up his shirt, she could see the ugly hole in his side, and her chest went tight. “I…I’ve never removed a bullet before. Do you think it’s still in there? Maybe it went clean throu
gh.”

  He managed a sarcastic grin in spite of his pain. “Believe me…it is still in there.” He grimaced again. “I need…water.”

  Faith hurried out to dip a ladle into a bucket of drinking water. She carried it in to him and helped him drink. He gulped it down readily.

  “I think Buck can take out bullets,” she told him. “He’s the stage driver.”

  “He must not know…I am here.”

  “He can be trusted. He’ll do whatever I ask. He’s a good friend.”

  His green eyes moved over her, and he noticed she was dressed differently from earlier that morning. He’d liked the way her red hair had looked then, hanging long and loose, thick and beautiful, messy—like a woman just waking up in the morning. “There will be soldiers with him. He would…have to explain. He must keep driving.”

  “One of the soldiers can drive to the next depot. Buck can think of an excuse.”

  “No… It is best he keeps going.”

  “I need him to help me bury the dead bodies out there. I hid them the best I could, but the weather is warming. I can’t just let them lie there. They’ll—” She felt sick again, remembering Johnny. “They’ll start to reek. I have to think of the passengers. I don’t want to alarm them.”

  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Do what you…must do.” He fell silent, and for a moment Faith thought he had died. She felt for a pulse, saw his chest rise and fall. She thought how strange it was that he had been one of those who had attacked the station, yet had risked his life to get back those horses, going after men who were supposedly his friends. He’d killed two of them. This man could be both wild and ruthless, yet kind and caring. She had never known anyone quite like him.

  Johnny toddled into the room then, and she shooed him out. She then packed gauze against Tall Bear’s wound to soak up the blood. He was too heavy for her to reach under him to wrap the wound, and it struck her how big he was. He took up the whole cot, his feet hanging over the end when she picked them up and placed them onto the bed. She left him fully dressed, hoping Buck would come in time to take out the bullet and save his life.

  She remembered his horse then. She picked up Johnny and carried him outside with her, taking the reins of Tall Bear’s Appaloosa and leading the animal into the cow shed. She left it there and closed the door, her mind racing with uncertainty. Was she crazy not to tell the soldiers Tall Bear was there? He’d probably be arrested and hanged. Much as he might deserve it, she could not bring herself to be responsible for such an end for him. She owed him, for saving her not once, but twice.

  She headed back to the house, but before she went inside, she heard the familiar sound of thundering horses, the clanking and squeaking of soldiers’ gear, the rattle of the stagecoach. She looked down the roadway to see it coming, just before it disappeared behind a hill. It reappeared on the crest of another, disappeared again. The stage was arriving much earlier than she had expected. Perhaps this was God’s way of saving Tall Bear.

  She hurried back inside to check on Tall Bear, who still lay silent. She set Johnny down and picked up Tall Bear’s gun belt, putting it in a top dresser drawer so that Johnny couldn’t touch it. She leaned close to Tall Bear then.

  “You must keep quiet,” she spoke softly, not even sure he heard her. “There are soldiers coming.”

  She hurried back into the outer room, closing the curtains and telling Johnny to stay near her. She put up her own rifle, then hurriedly picked up the splintered wood from the broken shutters and stacked it near the cookstove as kindling, hoping no one would ask why one window was boarded up. If they did, she would tell them one of the shutters had broken off and she’d put up the boards for safety, since she couldn’t latch the shutters.

  When the stagecoach reached the front of the building, she saw only two passengers inside, both men. Six soldiers accompanied the coach, and Faith invited them to tie their horses in front and come inside for apple pie, afraid that if they wandered around outside too much, they would spy the two bodies under the barrels, or find the one in the horse shed. She had decided not to tell them about the attack. They might want to stay and help bury the men, and she needed them to leave quickly so Buck could tend to Tall Bear.

  The men gladly agreed to pie. Faith made sure they were all quickly served, sensing their desire to hurry on their way. After all, there was a lot of money being hauled on the stage, and they hoped to get it to its destination with no trouble. If only they knew that Faith Sommers was the reason they would encounter no outlaw attack.

  In his usual winning way Johnny was soon on the knee of one of the soldiers and also eating pie. Faith served coffee, then hurried outside and called for Buck, who had partially unhitched the team.

  “We’re in a big hurry, ma’am,” he told her. “Got a payroll on board.”

  “I already know that.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “Buck, I need you to stay.”

  “What!”

  “Don’t bother switching teams. The horses in the corral have already been run hard this morning.”

  “What!” he repeated, surprise and irritation in his eyes.

  Faith put a finger to her lips. “Please. I can’t explain right now. All I can tell you is there are three dead bodies hidden around here that need to be buried, and there is a man inside in the back room with a bullet in his side. I need someone who knows how to take out a bullet, and I need help burying the dead ones. I don’t want the passengers or the soldiers to know, especially about the man in the back room.”

  Buck scratched his head. “What the heck is goin’ on?”

  “Please trust me, Buck. I’ll tell you all of it after they leave. Have your shotgun or one of the soldiers go on to the next station and switch teams there. Tell the shotgun you’re in such a hurry, you feel it would take too much time to switch teams. I’ll tell the soldiers a rider came through here this morning and told me he’d seen a gang of men up ahead who looked questionable and that they had better hightail it for the next station and be on the lookout. I can tell them you’re staying on here because I’m afraid of being attacked. Please do this for me, Buck.”

  He sighed, slowly nodding. “You all right? You look a mite shook up.”

  She smiled but felt like crying. “I’m all right.” She touched his arm. “Thank you, Buck.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go tell Gordy. He went to use the privy.”

  “I’ll tell the soldiers. I expect they’ll be ready to leave pretty quick once they hear. Tell Gordy to come get a swallow of coffee.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Buck turned, then hesitated. “How about Johnny? He okay?”

  “Yes. He’s inside right now sitting on a soldier’s lap.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, walking off to find Gordy. What the hell had happened there that morning? Three dead bodies? The horses already run hard? A wounded man lying in the back room? It seemed there was never a dull moment where Faith Sommers was concerned.

  Faith watched him, grateful for his kindness and friendship. She just hoped Tall Bear would not come round and cry out with pain, giving himself away. Maybe if he stopped his outlaw ways from now on and was no longer mentioned as a part of future raids and killings, the army would stop looking for him. Maybe they didn’t even know the name of the “Indian” who had ridden with a gang of outlaws. Surely it wasn’t too late for Tall Bear to change his ways. There was too much good in him to be wasted this way.

  She went inside and told the others the stage would be leaving again momentarily. They had better use the privy and refill their canteens at the pump right away. They thanked her for the pie, complimented her baking, and a few asked her the usual questions about what a woman was doing out there running a stage station all alone. At the moment Faith had to ask herself the same question. With great relief she finally got them all out the door, telling them Buck would stay on until the next stage because she’d heard there might be outlaws prowling about. That got them moving even faste
r, sure they had to be alert now for a possible attack on the stage because of the payroll.

  Faith closed the door, and Johnny toddled over to his cot and lay down with a stuffed cow Faith had made for him. Faith walked into the back room and watched Tall Bear. He opened his eyes and looked at her questioningly.

  “The soldiers are gone. Buck stayed behind. He’ll take out that bullet.”

  He closed his eyes again. “I am sorry…for your trouble.”

  She walked closer. “You helped me once, and again today. It’s my turn to do something for you.”

  He looked at her once more, and it seemed just opening his eyes was an effort. “You are an unusual woman…Faith Sommers. I never…forgot you.”

  She felt a strange tug at her heart. “And you are an unusual man, Tall Bear. I never forgot you either.” She knelt beside him. “Tell me. In case you…if you shouldn’t make it through this…what is your white name? I never knew it. I could put both names on your marker.”

  Tall Bear ached at the memories of his early boyhood with his father. “My white name…is Gabriel. Gabriel…Beaumont.”

  “Gabriel!” She smiled. “That’s the name of an angel.”

  He managed a faint smile. “I am…no angel.”

  “Oh, I certainly agree. But maybe the name will bring you luck.”

  He kept his eyes closed. “Just use Gabe. That is what everyone called me…many years ago. It is what my…father called me.”

  “All right. Gabe Beaumont.” She studied his handsome face, closed her eyes, and prayed he would not die, yet wondered why she cared.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Faith and Buck managed to get enough whiskey down Tall Bear’s throat to help dull the pain. Buck gave him a piece of rawhide to bite on, grumbling that he never thought he’d see the day he’d gladly pour whiskey down an Indian’s gullet.