This Savage Heart

by Patricia Hagan

  Julie looked beyond him to where Sujen lay moaning and bleeding, tear-filled eyes watching in terror. She wriggled her fingers frantically above the ropes that held her wrists, desperately signaling to the girl to get out of sight. They were dealing with a man who was really insane. Great care would have to be taken. Oh, why didn't the girl run?

  Sujen understood. Slowly, painfully, she began inching her way through the dirt toward the door. Julie took a deep breath and prayed she could distract Arlo. "Yes, Arlo, I forgive you," she whispered. "It's all right. Everything is going to be all right." What should she say next?

  "I knew it!" he cried, tears of joy welling up in his eyes.

  Julie watched him carefully, telling herself to smile.

  "You do care about me, Louise, I mean, Julie. Oh, God, I do mean Louise, because you are my precious Louise, resurrected by the merciful God who knows I can't live without you. We'll have a good life... a happy life. You'll see. Oh, Louise, darlin', I'm going to be so good to you. Our firstborn will be a daughter—Betsy, resurrected, too—and we'll be as happy as we were. Happier. Oh, Louise, I love you so...."

  "Everything will be all right, Arlo," she repeated, commanding herself to sound calm and warm. Oh, please, she silently prayed, let him believe me.

  She took a deep breath and then said, "Go now. Get me some clothes. It isn't proper for me to be this way. And I'm cold, too."

  His eyes narrowed, and Julie panicked. Did he see through her?

  He moved closer to her, and it was only by mustering all the self-control she possessed that Julie was able to accept his wet, trembling lips. "Oh, Lordy," he gasped, drawing back, grinning, tossing his head wildly from side to side with glee. "It's going to be so good, Louise, so good. Those other women, it was just animal hunger. With you, it was always a consecration of our pure love. And it's going to be like that again. I know it."

  Arlo got to his feet and, without another word, took his coat from a nail near the door and walked purposefully out into the cold dawn.

  * * *

  Julie lay in the dank shelter, the smell of wet earth assaulting her. She continued to struggle against her bonds, but she knew it was futile. It was, she decided, the way worms must feel, surrounded by earth, nothing to do but wriggle and squirm.

  The squeaking of the door made her lie very still, eyes squinting in the faint light. The door opened with agonizing slowness. The face of Sujen appeared, and Julie wavered between fear and hope. When the girl had stood there, motionless, for some time, Julie blurted, "I tried to make Arlo stop beating you. I helped you all I could. Won't you help me, Sujen?"

  Sujen painfully lowered herself, crouching beside the pallet. Her misery was evident. She winced with each move, continuing to wrap her arms protectively around her stomach.

  Julie searched her face for a sign of what the girl might be thinking, but all Sujen did was stare, her face giving away nothing. "Sujen," Julie began once more, raising her head from the pallet. "I begged Arlo not to beat you. I don't want to see you hurt. I'm your friend. You don't want me to be hurt do you? Untie me, and I'll get out of here, and then you can have Arlo. I don't want to stay with him. You see, I have someone else. So Arlo can be yours."

  "No!"

  Julie blinked. With a rasping gasp, Sujen leaned closer, eyes wide. "Arlo take me into hut, give me food. Now Arlo beat me. Sujen go."

  "Where, Sujen? How can you survive?" Julie whispered.

  Sujen's chin lifted defiantly, and her black eyes flashed. "Sujen not let baby die."

  Good, Julie told herself. The girl wasn't beaten. She had pride, even after all she'd been through. "Then help me escape, too, Sujen," Julie implored. "Help me get back to my people, please." Julie was determined that this proud, strong girl would help her—somehow.

  "They're good people. I think they'll take you in, give you a place to live, and food."

  The Indian girl's lips trembled slightly as she said, "If Sujen help you, Arlo kill me. Must go."

  She started to get up, but Julie's outraged cry stopped her. "You're going to just leave me here, after I begged him not to beat you? If I hadn't been tied, I would have stopped him. I was willing to do that for you, even though you'd already tried to hurt me. Yet you're going to leave without helping me?" Her words hung in the air.

  Sujen's face remained impassive, but after a moment she said, "No."

  Julie was stunned, then, as Sujen produced a knife from inside her knee-high moccasins.

  "Must hurry," Sujen muttered, and she began cutting away at Julie's ropes.

  "Have you had that knife all the time?" Julie ventured, and for the first time, Sujen smiled. She nodded.

  When Julie was free, she tightened the blanket around her and hurried to the door. Staring outside, she saw that the hut was on the side of a rocky slope, and the incline was almost straight down. One stumble and they would roll all the way to the bottom.

  "Follow," Sujen commanded, starting to walk up the slope.

  Julie pointed downward. "We have to get to town, Sujen, that way."

  Sujen smiled. "The way Arlo went. You wish to go that way?"

  Julie knew what she meant but wondered, "How are we going to find the others if we have to go in the opposite direction?"

  "We waste time talking," Sujen said urgently, climbing upward. It was a rough climb, and it was cold in the bleak wilderness. Despite the woolen blanket, Julie was shivering. The wind assaulted without letup. Moving was hard, because she had to keep one hand on the blanket.

  After several minutes of climbing upward, Sujen disappeared behind a huge rock, then reappeared. "Now we go down."

  Below, in the mist, they could see El Paso and, beyond, the thin ribbon of the Rio Grande river. Watching it, Julie stumbled, twisted her ankle, and fell to her knees. Sujen turned to stare. "No, I'm all right," Julie told her, standing and testing the ankle. It was not hurt very badly, and nothing, not even a broken leg, would keep her there! She forced herself on.

  Sujen grabbed a fallen branch and, using her knife to hack at the twigs, created a smooth walking stick. Julie accepted it gratefully, and the Indian girl led them on.

  As they drew closer to the bottom, the brush became thicker and denser. Progress was more difficult as they maneuvered their way through the brambles and foliage, but at least there was less chance of Arlo spotting them.

  Several hours after they'd escaped the hut, they slid down one last, steep bank and crouched behind thick clumps of bushes. They were right on the edge of the town! Warily, they looked around. Julie was exhausted and shaking. But seeing other people—men unloading wagons, women bundled against the harsh chill—was such a comfort. On the other hand, Arlo could be anywhere and, if he saw them, would doubtless shoot. Did they dare move into the open and chance it? They stayed where they were for a little while, considering.

  Feeling Sujen's fingertips on her shoulder, Julie turned to look into the dark eyes. "Why white girl help Sujen, when Sujen wanted to kill you?"

  Did Sujen think she had been used again, Julie wondered, as Arlo and so many others had used her?

  "Sujen, I want to be your friend," she said. "You've proved you're my friend by helping me escape. We won't think about how you felt before. What you felt was normal, but that's all over now. We're friends."

  "Friends," Sujen repeated.

  Julie looked over the brush again, and this time the sight made her scream. "Derek! Oh, God, Derek!" She thrashed through the last of the brambles, stumbling down an incline, dropping the walking stick and limping toward him as fast as she could.

  Derek had been standing outside the sheriff's office. At the blessed sound of her voice, he turned and ran to meet her, grabbing her against his chest and squeezing tightly. She was overcome by the joy of his strength, the sensation of complete protection flowing through her.

  "Derek, Derek, hold me, hold me," she sobbed, tears streaming, her whole body shuddering. "Never, never let me go again."

  Derek did not begin asking f
rantic questions. She needed to be held, and then to be cared for. There would be time, later, to find out what had happened. Just then, he had to get Julie away from the quickly gathering crowd—townspeople, soldiers summoned from Fort Bliss to form a search party, the sheriff. Lifting her in his arms, he started toward the hotel.

  Calming a little in his embrace, Julie suddenly cried, "Sujen! Derek, she's frightened, so she won't come out."

  Derek stopped, staring down at her.

  "She helped me escape," Julie explained. "It was Arlo Vance who carried me off, and if it hadn't been for Sujen, I'd still be tied up in that filthy hut, waiting for him to come back."

  Derek set her on her feet. "Where is she?" he demanded, and she pointed to where Sujen was peering out from behind the bushes. Swiftly, he walked toward the girl.

  "Don't frighten her," she called to him.

  Sujen sank out of sight, and Derek demanded that she come out. Slowly, looking beyond him to Julie, she stood up. Then, cautiously, Julie limped to Derek's side and said, "I promised her she could go to Arizona with us, that we'd take care of her. I couldn't have escaped without her."

  He whirled on her. His eyes were tormented. "Did Arlo touch you, Julie? Did he hurt you?"

  She shook her head. "He's crazy, Derek. He thinks I'm his dead wife, Louise, or something like her. He didn't touch me in the way you mean. We can't let Sujen go back to him. He'll kill her."

  "I'm going to kill Arlo, so nobody need worry about that bastard anymore," Derek said in that deadly voice she knew so well.

  From a distance down the street, in the shadows of a saloon porch, Arlo Vance watched, uncontrollable fury whipping through him. He would have his revenge, he promised himself silently. And another name was added to his list—Sujen's. Yes, he thought, smiling to himself. They would all pay, and pay with everything they had. All of them.

  Chapter 12

  The wagon train left El Paso and moved through southwestern New Mexico toward the Arizona territory. It was late March, 1865, and no one could say which he'd welcome more, the end of the war back home, or the end of the winter that still raged around them.

  Winds came, relentlessly whipping dirt and sand up into the sky where it was turned into rain, then thrust back at them in muddy torrents. Some were sure the world was ending when mud fell from the sky.

  A troop had been dispatched to ride as far as Fort Bowie with the ten wagons that remained of the train. But when they reached the tiny settlement of Hachita, a messenger from Fort Bliss caught up with them, bearing orders that the escort soldiers were to return to El Paso at once. Commanches had attacked some farms, and a major uprising was feared. Every man was needed. So, with apologies to Captain Arnhardt and the others, military command called its troops back. They couldn't be spared to guard fewer than forty people.

  It was a densely overcast morning when Captain Arnhardt assembled his people in Hachita's small general store. He stood before the fireplace, a hole dug out against one wall and a crude mud-and-clay chimney jutting up through the thin, planked roof. Shelves lined two walls, stocked mostly with dirt, cobwebs, and bugs that had frozen to death looking for food. A splintered counter ran the length of the other wall. It was cluttered with dirty glasses, sticky with last night's beer. The store served as a gathering place for the menfolk, since there was no gambling hall or saloon.

  As the men filed in, Derek saw that some had brought their wives, though he always meant these meetings for men only. No matter. They would all hear what he was going to say soon enough. As his eyes swept over them, he felt pity, even for the troublemakers, like Elisa Thatcher. Her expression was harsher than usual, and he didn't have to wonder why. No driver had been found in El Paso, and there was nothing to do but insist she get rid of all the things she was hauling, along with her wagon and team, and move in with another family. After much arguing, she'd agreed to dispose of the wagon and horses, but she vehemently refused to part with what she called her precious heirlooms. She obtained the promise of a merchant to store all the boxes and crates and barrels, but Derek doubted she would ever see any of them again. They had probably all been on the auction block before their wagon train left town. Poor Elisa. No matter. He had more important things to worry about. And he knew the real reason for her bitchy behavior. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." He'd known the truth of that all his adult life. Elisa felt he had scorned her in favor of Julie. But he'd never loved Elisa. Why, he wondered for probably the hundredth time in his life, did a woman expect a man to fall in love with her forever and always just because they'd shared a few hours of passion?

  Derek's gaze fell on Colby and Luella Bascomb, and he wondered who was tending the four kids they had left. They had started out with six, and two had died of a raging fever back in the Monahans Sandhills. At the two pitiful graves, which would soon be erased by the shifting sands, Colby and Louella had tearfully said it was God's will. They would keep their faith and go on.

  Derek was not a religious man. Sure, there was a supreme being, Someone or Something, who helped call the shots from Somewhere, but he figured the way things went in life was pretty much up to himself. The Someone or Something would take over when it was his turn to be lowered into a grave, and he would worry about it then. The only faith he worried about was the faith he had in himself. And never had he felt it strained more than it was now.

  He overheard Daughtry Callahan tell someone that his wife was still feeling poorly after the birth of their third child four weeks before. Derek softly cursed. Why did women have to get pregnant at the worst possible times? He looked at Myles and Teresa, huddled together off to one side. She looked damned awful, like a rag someone had wrung too hard. Every time he saw her, she looked bigger and sicker. Hell, he and Julie were just damn lucky that she wasn't in the same shape. But maybe it wasn't luck. Maybe it was that Someone or Something smiling down, because life had treated them both so harshly for the last four years.

  He caught Julie's eye, and his heart warmed at the sight of her. Yes, life had kicked them in the gut, but they were going to make it one day.

  Derek shook his head. He was letting personal desires run away with him, willing to yield his concentration to anything besides having to tell these brave, stout-hearted people what it looked like they were up against.

  Frank Toddy yelled, "What's this all about, Captain? We thought we was gonna move out today."

  Taking a deep breath, Derek began, and because of his blunt way, he seemed downright cold, though that wasn't really the truth of it. Arnhardt informed them there would be no military escort across the border. He sharply advised any family afraid to continue without the patrol return with the soldiers to El Paso and wait for the next wagon train, which might be larger, or might have an escort. He was brutally honest in describing the threat of Indian attack, and he also pointed out that there were risks with even more people, more wagons. If they were attacked, the Indians could number in the hundreds. All he could tell them was that he would do his damn best to get them through. After all, since leaving Brunswick, they had known the possibility of Indian trouble existed.

  They had, he assured them, plenty of guns and ammunition. If attacked, they would try to scare off the Indians by putting every man, woman, and child at the trigger of a gun. They were heading straight through Chiricahua country, about a week's ride from Fort Bowie. With luck, they would reach the fort and obtain an escort into Tucson. From there, he was hopeful the rest of the way would be relatively safe. But there was much open country. Spring would arrive soon, and with good weather, they could make better time. The decision to continue or turn back rested with each individual family. However, those who continued would not find a sympathetic ear for any regrets, no matter what happened to them. He was giving them a chance to change their minds. He ended by recounting everything he knew about current Indian troubles. It involved a great deal of shocking information, touching on many Indian tribes.

 
; Then he took a long pause and said, "I'm going forward. Those who wish to go with me are welcome. To those who wish to turn back, I bid you good luck."

  The meeting broke up so that everyone could talk privately.

  A short while later, in Myles's wagon, Derek looked at Myles, Teresa, and Julie. His eyes were probing, his demeanor that of a man in the throes of deep concern for those he cared about most. Gravely, he said, "I told the truth. There is danger. Real danger. We may get through all right... or we may be attacked. If we are attacked there is a chance we can scare the Indians off—if they don't have guns and there happen not to be too many of them. There is also the very real chance that we may be massacred."

  Myles quickly turned to face Teresa. "I think we should go back and wait. You say you figure the baby is due in about two months. We can go back to El Paso and I'll find some kind of work to get us through till after the baby is born. That way, you can even have a real doctor. Then, when you get your strength back, we'll join the next wagon train." He scanned her face, hoping she agreed.

  Teresa looked at him as though she had never seen him before. Aghast, she cried, "Go back? To what? We have no home. You can't be sure you would find work! No, Myles, no!" She shook her head firmly, resolutely. "We can build a cabin. We can still get in a late crop this year and have food for next winter. But most of all, I want my baby born in Arizona, in our new home, and I want to get there as soon as possible. God is going to see us through this, Myles. I know He is." She reached to clutch his hand, tears trailing down waxen cheeks. "Please don't ask me to turn back."

  Myles looked to Julie.

  "I agree," Julie said to him. "She's right. We've come too far to turn back. Have a little faith, Myles."

  Derek had reached his limit. Oh, he would go on if need be, guiding those who had signed on in Brunswick to the destination they had been promised. He wasn't about to back out, no matter what the danger was. He was no coward. But neither was he a fool.