Scars of the Heart

by Joni Keever

  Flashes of the faces that threatened and tormented Carly in recent days passed before her mind’s eye. And Carly realized those faces may be after her still. With each apparition came a wave of revulsion . . . until she settled on the image of Kade’s face, his face as it had been the night of the poker game. Even in the shadow of his hat, Carly was drawn to the chiseled features and bottomless eyes. He had seemed different somehow.

  She turned to gaze at the man. He lay where he fell, subdued by a dense cloud of unconsciousness. He looked peaceful now. But Carly couldn’t rid herself of his image from before—crazed, wild, animal-like.

  Tears formed puddles on the brinks of her lower lids. Carly longed for the sweet life she’d enjoyed in the Shenandoah Valley before President Lincoln had been killed, before the division between the North and the South, before Papa brought them west, before Momma died, before Carly had been abducted and passed from one barbarian to the next and the next. Carly longed for her lovely Virginia, for laughter, for joy. She wanted desperately to be a pampered, frivolous girl again, with nothing more challenging in her life than deciding with which suitor to attend the next party.

  Tears slipped from her lashes and dropped to her cheeks, pursuing their downward path. Her vision blurred, yet she continued to stare at the wounded stranger lying in the dirt. His instruction echoed in her ears. You have to go for help . . . They’ll find you. Carly looked around helplessly, as one question burned within her.

  Do I face a host of demons or stay and dance with the devil himself?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carly squinted up at the fierce summer sun, willing it to relent. She wiped a damp sleeve across her dripping brow, wincing at the pain that action brought. Gingerly she touched her forehead. The area was sore and felt puffy. Carly had removed her hat because it caused her to sweat and itch. Now she quickly replaced it, realizing she’d left her delicate skin exposed to the sun’s burning rays.

  Glancing to her pink forearms, she rolled down her sleeves and turned the collar up on the tattered shirt she still wore. The methodical plod of the horse soon lulled her back to her contemplative state. Though she tried to concentrate on returning to her beloved Virginia, her thoughts kept reviewing the debate she’d waged against herself before leaving on this absurd journey across land devoid of life.

  What a fool she had become! Yet did she have any other choice? If she had stayed in the cave with Kade, he would most likely have died, leaving her alone and completely helpless in this godforsaken wilderness. Then she probably would have died. If she headed out in search of a town, she might find some sort of help, but as her luck ran of late, she’d likely find herself right back in the clutches of a Tiny or a Fletcher. If she headed north as Kade instructed, she might become hopelessly lost, be eaten by some wild animal, or realize her biggest fear of all—being discovered by the very people Kade promised would find her.

  Carly had stared long and hard at the Indian sprawled unconscious on the floor of the cave. Conflicting images flashed through her mind—first his face and quizzical expression as she’d grown faint over the headless snake, then the crazed face of the savage who’d killed her father and carried her from their ranch. Kade’s image once again took shape, offering her his bar of soap and a chance to bathe, a bit of softness touching his dark eyes. Then it distorted into a callous leer, the look she’d received while being haggled over as if she were no more than a handful of hides to be traded.

  As Carly had placed the full water bag by Kade and climbed atop the broad back of the stallion, silent tears streamed down her face. Her life had surely come to an end, one way or another. It didn’t really matter how. The only two people she truly loved were dead. She would never make it to Marshall. She would never see Virginia again. She would never know the joys of being a wife and mother.

  As the hours of the day passed slowly by like the dry dead grass of the plains beneath the horse’s hooves, Carly realized she wasn’t even afraid anymore. No, in truth, she longed for death. Hadn’t she prayed every day for an end to this living hell she’d been forced into?

  Despite it all, some part of her clung to the smallest possibility. A tiny voice of survival beckoned from deep within. An intangible force pushed her forward. If Kade’s people did find her, perhaps they would keep her alive long enough to retrieve him, and perhaps he would still be breathing, and perhaps he would somehow save her from them and take her to Texas as he’d promised.

  Perhaps.

  #

  At some point during the night, Carly realized she wasn’t even directing the horse. She hoped they were still headed north. In truth, she’d done very little guiding. Without a saddle or even a bit and bridle, it had been difficult to maneuver the animal at first. Once Carly got the black northward bound, she relaxed and prayed he’d do the rest.

  At some point during the morning, Carly understood she would not survive much longer beneath the cruel sun without water. Knowing Kade wouldn’t be able to go for water himself, she’d left the bag with him, assuming they would find another stream along the way. That hadn’t happened. She hadn’t seen so much as a drop of dew since leaving the cave the day before.

  At some point during the sun’s climax, Carly fell asleep. As her limp body began to slide sideways off the black, she awoke with a start. Squeezing with her legs and grabbing a handful of mane, she managed to catch herself. The stallion stopped as she regained her seat. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she tried to pull from some unknown source of strength.

  She couldn’t go on. Her skin burned and tightened. Her muscles screamed with exhaustion and agony. Her tongue lolled around in her parched mouth like an unfamiliar object, blocking the way for each singed breath.

  The black shifted his weight from one back hoof to the other and swished his long tail. His head hung low, and his coat grew thicker with dirt and sweat.

  With a heavy sigh, Carly gave him a nudge of her heels, and on they went.

  Squinting her eyes and using her hand as a shield against the relentless sun, she peered into the distance. The gleaming orb sat poised just above the horizon, misshapen by its own intensity. It set the dead earth in its path into motion. The shimmering plains beckoned to Carly, often teasing her with pools of water. But she soon realized, the pools were nonexistent, the illusion never ending.

  Diligently, the stallion plodded forward. Carly lay against his sweaty neck. She had long since stopped caring where they were headed or if they got there. She had lost her hat along the way, and strands of grimy, damp hair clung to her face and neck. Each time she started to doze off, she forced her eyes to open and tried to focus. The dancing horizon hypnotized her.

  Slowly, from the depths of the golden waves, a form began to take shape. Carly tried to adjust her vision. The image grew larger, eventually dividing into three pieces, each dark and distorted.

  She tried again to focus but felt herself falling. Her lifeless limbs slipped from the animal she clung to as her tired mind slipped into a dark abyss. Carly fell to the dusty, cracked ground with a thud and succumbed as blackness enveloped her.

  #

  Distant voices unraveled Carly’s thick blanket of sleep. Some part of her mind swam toward them while another part retreated. It’s safe here. Stay—stay forever.

  But the voices grew louder, and Carly conceded. With tremendous effort, she slowly opened her eyes.

  Two dark shapes floated through the haze. A golden glow emanated behind them. Their soft voices continued to caress her though she couldn’t understand the words. She felt secure, like a small child wrapped in Grandmother’s quilt. Her eyes threatened to close, but Carly struggled against the force. Where was she? Had her prayers been answered? Had she finally died and awakened in heaven?

  Testing her mortality, Carly moved slightly. Sensual fur caressed her entire body, like the downy coat of a kitten. She swallowed and winced at the sting of pain in her throat. A heavy salve coated her lips, and strange smells sifted their way through the haze. />
  The dark duo parted, and Carly focused on a small fire burning brightly within a ring of rocks. Once again, she struggled to lift her heavy lids. As the flames touched the faces of the dream-dancers, Carly’s eyes opened wide.

  Indians!

  Memories returned in a flurry. Kade, the cave, his wound. She must’ve been successful in her quest to find his people. But had she sealed her fate in the process?

  They moved about the unfamiliar room, speaking their strange language. Two women with long, black braids appeared to be straightening their surroundings. Their dress was simple, their voices hushed. They had yet to notice her, and Carly fought to remain quiet and still.

  She wanted to run, to scream out in terror. Her body refused to cooperate. Her limbs seemed lifeless. Her throat too dry to allow sound. As if exhausted by the excitement, her heart slowed to its normal rhythm. Within moments, her mind edged back toward the nothingness from which it had emerged.

  #

  The second awakening occurred at the urging of one of her captors. A hand methodically nudged her shoulder while a command of some sort was repeated, its volume and insistence growing.

  Carly jumped to a sitting position, simultaneously realizing that she was completely naked and that what she’d hoped was a strange nightmare was in fact reality. She clutched the soft fur coverings to her chest, sucking in ragged breaths and staring in terror at the Indian. The woman, too, jumped and cast a bewildered gaze first at Carly, then back over her shoulder. A second woman stood in the shadows.

  The two exchanged a few words, and the first turned to Carly with another command. She glanced from one to the other. Neither seemed ready to attack her, yet she couldn’t ignore the fear coursing wildly through her. Why hadn’t they killed her in her sleep? Did they wish to torture her, enjoy her pain at length? Perhaps they planned to sell or trade her as did her first Indian captor.

  Where was Kade? Why wasn’t he there to protect her? Carly realized how ludicrous that thought was. Kade had delivered her into the hands of these people . . . his people. Hadn’t she caused him every sort of trouble since he saved her from Tiny? She was, indirectly, responsible for Kade’s wound. If not for her, he would surely be in Texas now, safe and tending to whatever business awaited him. Of course, he would side with them. That is, unless . . . .

  Shaking her head, Carly refused to entertain the idea that Kade had died. She had done what he asked. She’d taken the black and headed north. She had gone in search of help.

  “Where is Kade? He said you’d know where to find him. Did you? Is he all right?” The salt of tears stung her eyes as she looked to the strangers for answers.

  The woman wrinkled her brow and reached for Carly. With a gasp, she dodged, scampering backward a few inches until pinned against a wall of material. The Indian again glanced at her companion. With renewed determination, she railed at Carly with a long narrative of unfamiliar words and hand gestures.

  “Where’s Kade? I want to see him, to talk to him. He promised to take me to Texas.”

  The pair stared at her blankly, then at each other. The nearest one shook her head and repeated her orders.

  Pain throbbed in Carly’s temples. She felt like a naughty child being scolded. Pride rose within her.

  “What? What is it you want? You can’t expect me to understand your gibberish. You want to kill me, then kill me! You want to trade me, then trade me! I’m not afraid of you, do you hear me? I’m not afraid.” She clambered to her feet, wrapping the blanket about her shoulders.

  Again the women exchanged looks, but Carly continued. “I’ve passed through hell’s gate, and I’ve dined with the devil. I’m ready for whatever you offer. You can’t hurt me anymore—do you understand me? I’m not human anymore. I’m nothing! I’m no one! You can’t hurt me!” Her chest heaved with her efforts.

  They stood facing each other, eye to eye. Carly refused to shy away, to blink. Let death come. She would go proudly.

  Finally the dark-haired woman spoke. A beckoning hand accompanied the repeated command. They wanted Carly to go with them. She tightened her hold on the blanket and stepped forward. Her movement surprised the woman, who stumbled as she backed away. After a moment, she bent to retrieve a leather pouch from the ground, never taking her gaze off their strange visitor. The other woman hurried to move a flap in the hide wall. Carly lifted her chin and walked through the opening.

  The sun’s bright rays forced her eyes shut and burned the tender pink skin on her face and arms. Careful not to lose her fur covering, Carly used a hand to shade her eyes. As she walked between the women—one to the front, the other behind—Carly looked about for Kade and took in her surroundings.

  The structure they’d just left was a cone-shaped dwelling composed of tall, slender poles forming a central peak and draped with animal hide. Carly realized the very blanket she wore had at one time protected its own animal. She could see about a dozen similar structures and a few other Indians about. No one seemed to notice her or to be in mourning for Kade. This gave Carly hope and the courage to continue her appraisal.

  The encampment was quiet, and she wondered where the bulk of its inhabitants were. Her guide took them around the perimeter toward a wooded area. They passed a small contraption, which appeared to be a loom. A partially woven cloth of bright colors rested between taut wooden rods. Coils of dyed thread lay nearby. Beside another dwelling stood a crude rack with rows of drying meat.

  Carly stumbled as they entered the thicket. She turned her attention to the path before her. Well-worn, it wound through the saplings and underbrush until finally widening to a small clearing. A stream tumbled along a bed of rocks and moss. It pooled at the base of a large gray boulder.

  The taller of the two women, the one who had awakened Carly and tried to communicate with her, again spoke quick, guttural words, pointing first to Carly, then to the pond. While she tried to decide what it was they were commanding of her, the woman grew impatient. She reached for the animal skin.

  Carly snatched the covering from the Indian’s grasp and tightened it around herself. “You want me to bathe? Out here? With so many . . . uh, people about?”

  She stared in defiance at her captor. The woman nodded her head adamantly, talking more to herself than to Carly. She reached inside the pouch she carried and retrieved an object small enough to fit in her palm. When the Indian extended it to Carly, defiance turned to disbelief. A cake of lavender soap rested in the woman’s brown hand.

  Could it be? How would these people in the middle of the wilderness come to possess such a luxury? And why would they offer it to her? Carly searched the Indian’s eyes but found no answers there. The woman extended her hand farther, nodded to the pond, and uttered a short command.

  Carly glanced around. No one was in sight. She knew full well these women would not leave her to perform her toiletries in private. She guessed they intended to have her properly clean for the pending trade or human sacrifice, but the temptation loomed too large. One way or the other, her days were numbered. She might as well take advantage of whatever tiny bits of heaven she could snatch.

  Tentatively she moved forward and took the soap from the woman. Bringing it to her nose, she confirmed its scent. Lavender. She closed her eyes for just a moment and found herself snuggled tightly in Momma’s embrace. They sat on the brocade davenport in the parlor, and Momma hummed sweetly as she rocked her darling child.

  But Carly wasn’t in the parlor, and she wasn’t with Momma in Virginia. Her eyes snapped open to find the two women staring at her quizzically. With a tilt of her chin, she turned her back and stepped to the water’s edge, dropping the pelt behind her.

  For as long as her escorts allowed, Carly lingered in the cool water. She sat with her back to the women—and whoever else might happen upon them—and lathered every inch of flesh, every strand of hair. Fragrant bubbles washed away dead skin the sun had baked, black soot from the livery fire, and any trace of Fletcher’s touch.

  At the
ir insistence, Carly rose from the pool and donned a dress similar to their own. Each was made of supple hide, golden brown in color, and knee length. She noted that hers lacked the fringe and bead adornments. Her escorts showed her how to wear the soft hide foot coverings and untangled her hair with a crudely fashioned comb. As they applied the soothing salve to her cracked lips and tender arms and face, Carly grew nervous. They were certainly preparing her for something . . . or someone.

  A drum began to beat in the distance—a slow, steady lull that beckoned to Carly’s companions. The threesome followed the sound, joining streams of Indians funneling into one flowing body.

  Uncertain of her fate, Carly trembled. She briefly considered running, as far and fast as she could before they struck her down. Yet pride dried her brimming tears and nipped at her heels, urging her on.

  She searched the strange faces for Kade—to assure herself he’d survived or to plead for help; she wasn’t certain. He was not among the throng of people steadily making their way up a grassy knoll. And Carly realized none of these stoic, copper-skinned strangers gave her notice. They stared straight ahead, their faces neither curious nor condemning.

  The procession halted and spread in a semicircle, but she couldn’t see what they surrounded. One of her companions took her by the arm and urged her forward. The drumbeat stopped, and someone began a mournful chant. Carly strained to see over the crowd.

  A simple wooden structure stood stark against the pale blue sky. It resembled a table with long, thin legs. Beside it stood a horse. The black! Kade’s stallion! He appeared well rested and clean, his ebony coat glistening with blue highlights in the noonday sun. Carly searched the surrounding area. Kade must surely be nearby.