Stone Hand

by Charles G. West

  In the weeks that followed that stormy night, the eerie circumstances of the baby’s birth were gradually forgotten and soon it was a matter of three women with one baby to care for. Sarah, at first reluctant to take the baby close to her, soon overcame her abhorrence of the infant, her natural motherly instincts eventually outweighing the shame and contempt she had felt while carrying it. In the beginning, however, she had to be talked into nursing her baby. Only the obvious fact that the baby would starve otherwise finally persuaded her. Neither Raven nor Magpie could provide milk for the infant and Sarah’s breasts were plainly swollen to the point of pain, a fact that embarrassed Sarah greatly. She had felt all along that she had no choice but to have the renegade’s offspring but she had given little thought toward caring for it after it was born. She would have been hard-pressed to know what to do with it had it not been for the two Indian women.

  * * *

  Jason sat by the fire and cleaned his Winchester. The nights were still a bit brisk but it was nice sitting by the fire. He was thinking about the plans he had for developing a breed of horses with the Appaloosas as the starting seed. Magpie came out of the cabin, carrying the baby. Sarah had just fed the infant and Magpie took the child so that Sarah could rest. Jason paused in his cleaning of the rifle and watched the slight Osage girl as she settled herself on the other side of the fire. He couldn’t help but wonder if a baby brought out the natural beauty in all women, and not just the mother of the child.

  “You look real natural, holding that baby. How come you’re not married and having babies of your own?” As soon as he said it, he felt awkward.

  She blushed and lowered her head when she replied. “I have not been spoken for,” she said simply.

  “I find that hard to believe…as pretty as you are.” He knew that he often found himself admiring her lately.

  “I have not been spoken for by the man who has my heart,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The awkwardness again…he did not understand why the girl made him nervous whenever they were alone together. It didn’t make sense. She was no more than Long Foot’s sister-in-law but somehow he seemed to sometimes get tongue-tied when he tried to make simple conversation with her. She probably thinks I’m some kind of fumble-footed fool, he decided.

  * * *

  When the baby was a month old, Jason decided it was time to make the trip to the Bitterroots. He was reluctant to leave the women alone but he was anxious to get started and he figured they would be safe enough if they stayed close to the cabin. He and Long Foot gave them a quick lesson in how to aim and fire a rifle. Sarah was quick to inform Jason that she had fired a rifle before and knew how to use it. When she demonstrated by clipping a limb off a tree that stood some fifty yards from the cabin, Long Foot was impressed enough to utter, “Damn right.”

  It would be a long trip to the country of the Nez Percés. Long Foot questioned the wisdom of starting such a journey. He pointed out that it would be necessary to cross through many mountain passes and travel through several different territories, those of the Utes, the Shoshones, and the Bannocks, to name a few. Jason knew what he wanted, however, and when Long Foot suggested that Jason trade for horses with the Bannocks, he explained why it was out of the question.

  “Three years ago at Bent’s Fort, I met a fellow named Wiley Haverstrom. Wiley trapped the Bitterroot Mountains for a couple of years before he got wilderness fever and came out to civilization. He had a horse he said he traded from the Nez Percés, said they breeded ’em. Well, I ain’t never seen another one like it. It was one spunky animal…and handsome, too. I’ve had it in the back of my mind that if I was gonna breed horses, that’s the breed I want.” He cinched up Birdie, waited for her to blow, then pulled up on the girth again. Then he looked at Long Foot and said, “I’m pulling out. If you feel queer about leaving your womenfolk alone, I’ll understand and no hard feelings.” He stepped up in the saddle. “I can sure use your help if you decide to go.”

  Long Foot shrugged. “I’m going, damn right.”

  Jason wheeled Birdie around. Sarah was standing in the doorway of the cabin, watching. When Jason caught her eye, she smiled. He walked Birdie over to her and reached down and patted her gently on the shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I might be gone a month though. You should be all right.”

  She took his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. Just get back as soon as you can. We don’t want to be left alone here any longer than we have to.”

  “I will.” He gave her a big smile. When he turned back around, it was to find Magpie staring at him. He would almost call it a longing gaze. He smiled at her and said, “Look after things, Magpie.” He didn’t know why he said it. He wondered why everything he said to her sounded stupid.

  She smiled up at him and replied, “I will.”

  “I’ll be back with breed stock that’ll put us in the horse business sure ’nough.” He pulled Birdie’s head around and nudged her in the belly. “Come on, Long Foot. We’re burning daylight.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Sarah had no plans to become attached to the baby. She tried to tell herself that it was like a tumor that needed to be removed from her body. Once removed, she wanted to have done with it and she planned to give the baby to Raven to raise as her own. Jason had told her that Raven would take the baby to begin with, and judging by her behavior with the infant, it appeared she was more than willing to take it. In fact, both sisters competed for the baby’s attention and Sarah was sure Magpie would take her baby if Raven decided not to. But Sarah’s resolve to give her baby away was weakening and she wondered if she really could do it. The baby was almost three months old now and was a robust little renegade. She found it impossible to be unaffected by his charm and discovered that now she was competing along with Magpie and Raven for his affection. It was obvious to her that she was soon going to have to make a decision that would be crucial to her future.

  Jason and Long Foot had been gone for more than a month and the women watched the ridges above the valley daily, hoping to sight the two of them returning. For that reason, Sarah’s heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of the riders on the south ridge. She was playing with the baby in the sunshine of the cool summer morning when a slight movement in the corner of her eye caused her to look toward the mountains.

  Her first thought was one of instant joy. Jason was back! But as she stared at the riders she realized there were three of them and they led no horses behind them. As she gazed at them, the three slowly walked their horses to a point no more than four or five hundred yards from the cabin. There they stopped and looked down on the valley. She could see now that they were Indians and she felt the heartbeat quicken within her breast. Glancing back at the cabin, she saw Raven standing by the door. She had seen their visitors, too, and was staring in their direction.

  Moving deliberately so as not to display alarm, Sarah gathered up the baby and slowly moved back to the cabin. Magpie came out of the tent and stood by her sister. When Sarah came up to them, she spoke softly.

  “Can you tell who they are?”

  Raven glanced at Magpie for confirmation, then answered, “They look to be Utes.” This was all she could offer, then she added, “We’re in their country.”

  “Why do they just sit there? What do you think they want?”

  Raven shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I think they are not sure what to do. They are looking to see where our men are, I think.”

  Sarah stood silent for a few moments longer. “Magpie, go into the cabin and bring one of the rifles out here. We’ll let them know we’re not unprotected.” The girl did as she was told. While she waited for the rifle, Sarah had another, somewhat disturbing, thought; she hoped it would send the proper message to their visitors and not have the opposite effect and entice the Utes to attack them to get the rifle.

  When Magpie returned, Sarah handed her the baby and took the rifle. She made a show of
cocking the lever and standing with the weapon at the ready. There was no indication from the Indians that her demonstration had moved them. They sat silently watching the three women for several long minutes. Then the leader turned his horse and slowly made his way along the ridge. His two companions followed. Their pace was leisurely as their ponies picked their way around the rocks and trees, keeping the little valley in sight all the time. At the north end of the valley, they turned and rode off to the east, still at the same leisurely pace until they disappeared from sight.

  The incident was unnerving to Sarah. Their little valley had been discovered. Now what could they expect? Would they soon be visited by a full war party? “Damn,” she uttered. Where was Jason? He should have been back by now. Their valley was no longer safe. They would have to start taking turns as sentries and keep the rifles loaded and ready for instant use. The two Indian women were as concerned as she and for the next three nights they stood watches all night long. But the Utes did not return. When several days had passed, Sarah had to conclude that the Indians had no interest in the three women. They were merely passing by and not knowing where the men of the camp were, they thought it best to leave them in peace. With the passing of a week, the fright of the incident had dulled until it was no longer in her mind and the three women went back to their daily routine.

  Another two weeks passed before Jason returned. Sarah was feeding the baby one evening when Magpie came running from the creek, shouting the news that Long Foot and Jason were coming down the north ridge, driving a string of ponies. Sarah put the baby in his cradle and went out to watch them come in across the valley. There was a definite sensation of excitement when she first sighted Jason, riding easy in the saddle as he guided the horses in front of him. Maybe it was purely relief after having been alone with Raven and Magpie for so long. Maybe it went deeper than that. She didn’t bother to analyze it. She was just glad to see him.

  “Magpie, run open the corral,” she called out and quickly looked back toward the approaching horses. If she hadn’t known for certain that it was Jason, she might not have recognized him. He had obviously not bothered to take his razor with him and his face was almost hidden by a full growth of whiskers. And his hair had grown to shoulder length. What a sight, she thought, and ran to the corral as the horses thundered by her, heads tossing, hooves pounding. They were wild but they were handsome in their wildness. Muscular animals, they looked to be more sturdy than the typical Indian ponies she had seen. She counted fourteen as they raced by her. Jason must have done some shrewd trading. She had expected him to return with possibly two or three.

  “Sarah!” Jason called out to her. He pulled Birdie up short at the entrance to the corral and stepped down from the saddle.

  She came to meet him. “Welcome back…stranger,” she added, laughing. “That is you behind all those whiskers, isn’t it?”

  He laughed, embarrassed. “It’s me all right. I reckon I did go a little wild but I didn’t think it was worth the effort just to look pretty for Long Foot.”

  She laughed with him and gave him a hug. “We’re glad to see you back.”

  “We’re right glad to be back. There’s some rough country between here and the Bitterroots, rough if you’re driving horses.” He looked toward the cabin. “Where’s Magpie?” Sarah pointed toward the corral gate. “Oh…Everything all right? Any problems? The baby okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” she replied. “We had some visitors a couple of weeks ago but they didn’t stop to chat.”

  “Visitors? Who…what visitors?” He was immediately concerned.

  “Nothing really. There were three Indians. Raven thinks they were Utes. They showed up one day over there on that ridge”—she pointed to the southern end of the valley—“rode along the ridge there and stopped and watched for a while. Then they left. That’s all there was to it.”

  Jason frowned as he thought about that. “You ain’t seen ’em since?”

  “No, nobody else.”

  He shrugged. “I guess there’s no harm in it.” He suddenly smiled and nodded toward the corral. “We might have had some trouble if they had seen these Appaloosas, though.” He took a few steps over to the corral and propped one foot on the bottom rail, his arms rested on the top. “Aren’t they a handsome lot?”

  “Yes, they are a handsome lot. They sure have strange markings. What did you call them? Appaloosas?”

  “Yeah, Appaloosa. I think that’s what the first trappers in that country called them. I don’t know where they came up with that name, probably ’cause the Nez Percés used to camp along the Palouse River. ’Course the Indians don’t call ’em that. They just call. ’em horses.” He laughed. “I got six fine-looking mares, one of ’em I’m thinking about breaking for you. Three more”—he pointed them out—“that one, that one, and that one there, are all right but not as good-looking as the other six. See that big boy over there? With the rump almost all black? He’s the king stud. The rest of ’em were just thrown in for trading.” He turned to her for her approval. “I reckon I made a pretty good start.”

  She smiled her approval.

  * * *

  The next few weeks were busy weeks for Jason. He found that he had more work than he had planned. His original thinking was that he would be lucky to return from the Bitterroot country with two or three good horses. With fourteen, plus their original string, they had a sizable herd. His first priority was to repair and expand the little corral he had built. Then there were things to be built for the cabin. And, too, Long Foot was getting impatient to go down to the plains to hunt buffalo. Raven was again pressuring him to get her the necessary hides to build her tipi. Finally Jason told him to go on and go, he wasn’t much help when it came to ranch work anyway. So at sunup one morning Long Foot, Raven, and Magpie packed up the essentials and set out over the mountains. Long Foot planned to join a band of Cheyennes who had left the reservation and were supposed to be living in the mountains south of Jason’s little valley. He figured they would be down from the mountains to hunt buffalo and, if he could find them, his own hunt would no doubt be more productive. Long Foot was confident that he would return with hides and meat enough to see them all through the next winter. Jason let him take his good buffalo gun and extra horses to pack the meat.

  * * *

  The days that followed were pleasant days for Jason. He worked on his tiny ranch. Sarah took care of her baby, now confident to tend to the infant without the help of Raven and Magpie. The days were warm and sunny and the nights were cool and clear. Jason could understand how a man could be content to live out the rest of his life in this manner if it were not for the constant threat of Indian trouble. He wondered if there would ever come a time when it wasn’t necessary to keep a rifle handy. Even so, it was a sight better than living in a settlement.

  Sarah looked to be thriving in this way of life. He wondered if she still thought about John Welch. It could get mighty lonesome out here in the mountains…for a woman or a man. She seemed to have bloomed into full womanhood with the arrival of the baby, and in Jason’s mind she was more beautiful than she had ever been. Motherhood seemed to have softened her features. Her smile was warmer and she appeared to have lost the bitterness she had displayed before the birth of her son. Jason was thankful for this. He had feared she would remain bitter to the point where she might go crazy with the shame she had felt. It was good that she had obviously decided to go on with her life.

  He bent down to rinse the last traces of soap from his razor. Then, laying it aside on a flat rock, he reached down into the clear, cool stream, his hands cupped, and splashed the water on his face. It made him shiver involuntarily but he repeated it several times more until he was satisfied his face was clean. He picked up his kit and headed back to the cabin. From habit, he glanced over at the corral to double-check himself, noting that the gate was closed properly and the horses were secure for the night. Sarah would be getting his supper ready pretty soon if she was through feeding th
e baby. He always tried to stay out of the cabin before supper to give her privacy while she nursed the little one.

  He walked quietly, a manner that came natural to him after years of scouting. She did not hear him when he approached the cabin and was not aware of him until he stood in the doorway. Jason did not intend to surprise Sarah. It just happened that he was a minute or two early. The sight of her stopped him in his tracks. He was unable to react beyond gazing at the picture before him. She held the baby in her arms, nestled to her bare breast, her rough buckskin dress untied and opened from her waist up. He could not help himself and he stared unabashed at the fullness of her bosom. The soft white curves of her breast imprisoned his gaze and left him speechless, unable to mumble an apology and helpless to turn on his heel and leave.

  Surprised, she almost gasped at first, but seeing the obvious paralyzing effect it had on him, she said nothing and made no move to cover herself. She looked into his eyes and there was no mistaking the longing and hunger there. She realized at that moment how devastating the scene must be to his mind and how lonely his life must be. He was too shy to ever show his need but she knew the need was there. She also recognized the instant heating of her own blood as the room seemed charged with the energy of his desire. She did not try to fool herself with the notion that she was in love with him. But she could feel his hunger and his need and she knew the man was too decent to take advantage of her. So she stopped him when at last he appeared to take control of his emotions again and started to retreat from the cabin.

  “Jason,” she whispered softly, “it’s all right. Don’t go.”