Brave Beginnings

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  She bit her lower lip and tiptoed to the door. Pressing her ear against it, she held her breath and waited. The sound of steady snoring assured her that Ernest was asleep. Good. There was still plenty of night left. That gave her suitable time to get out of here. She studied the weathered down lumber that formed the walls of her room. They were weak. Maybe she could pry the boards. There was a sliver of light that slipped through the bottom of one board that didn’t quite reach the ground. She was sure at one time, it reached the floor, but someone had dug up the floor. Why they would do that, she could only guess. But she didn’t care. Right now she had to get out of here.

  She knelt down and touched the bottom of the board and cringed. It was rough and dry, parts of it pricked her fingers. Grasping it with both hands, she braced her body as she pulled on it. It budged a little bit. Encouraged, she tried to get a better grip on it but realized she couldn’t. She let go of the board and inspected the dirt beneath it.

  She retrieved one of the blankets and covered her hands with it so she could dig into the dirt. Maybe if she made a large enough hole, she could get a better hold on the board and break it. She dug into the ground and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the dirt give way. Encouraged, she hurried the process, trying not to make any noise as she worked.

  After she figured she’d dug enough, she set the blanket aside and grabbed the board with her hands. Bracing herself, she pulled. A piece of the wood gave and split. She sat back for a moment to access the crack. With an inward groan, she realized she’d need to dig further. She waited in the silent room and turned her attention to the door. Everything was quiet on the other side except for the low snoring that assured her Ernest was still asleep.

  I can do this. I just need to keep going.

  Renewing her strength, she took the blanket that covered her hands and proceeded to make another hole. As she worked, something sharp poked through the blanket and stung one of her fingers. Startled, she yanked the blanket away and inspected her wounded finger in the moonlight. No skin was broken, though a red spot was on it. Shaking her hand and wiggling her fingers, she leaned forward to see what had hurt her.

  She squinted and saw something poking up from the hole. Reaching forward, she touched the solid object. What could it possibly be? She dug further into the hole. In the dark, it was hard to make out what she was digging out, but she managed to wrap her hand around the cool object that was bumpy in some places and smooth in others. Curious, she pulled it out of the ground and held it up to the window to see what it was.

  When she realized it was the bones of a human hand, she gasped and dropped it. Scurrying to the other side of the room, she grabbed another blanket and wrapped it around her head and placed a wad of the blanket into her mouth so her screams were muffled. She remained on the floor, her back against the wall for a good five minutes, rocking back and forth as she willed herself not to wake Ernest. Her breathing heavy, she stared at the hand lying on the floor, palm up, and its fingers curved as if beckoning her toward it.

  Oh God, what is that thing doing here?

  She tightened her hold on the blanket, her gaze still fixed on the hand as if it would move toward her if she took her eyes off of it. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally calmed down. No wonder the floor had been ripped out. Someone buried a body under here, and that explained why the dirt was loose enough for her to work with. Whoever dug that body here was probably in a hurry and didn’t bother packing the earth down. They must have been rushed if they didn’t build a floor back over the ground.

  She shivered. She didn’t want to know how that body got there. Anxious, she let the blanket drop off her shoulders and scrambled back to the board, well aware that she could end up digging up more of a skeleton. That hand had been chopped off at an odd angle at the wrist. Whoever had done it was in a hurry. Shivering again, she dug into the dirt, forgetting to use the blanket to protect her hands.

  When she got enough done, she grabbed the board and pulled on it, using more strength than before and the board snapped. She fell back but quickly got up. Gathering another section of the board, she pulled until it gave way. Excited, she tested the board above the one she’d just removed from the section of the wall. It was brittle as well.

  She pulled on it, but it took several attempts before it cracked. Letting go of it, she got on her back and used her feet to push it outward until it snapped. She stopped when she heard something from the other room. A heavy moment of silence lingered in the air as she waited. When she heard Ernest snore, she pressed through with her plan, trying not to be too loud as she broke enough of the wall to finally crawl out of the shack.

  Once outside, she bolted for the barn. Almost there. Almost there! Her heart sped up with anticipation. She was going to do it! She was going to get out of here! Soon she’d be with Chogan and get him to a doctor. He was still alive. She could feel it.

  She entered the barn and hurried to the horse which was asleep. She searched the place until she found the bridle and reins. Running to the steed, she slipped the bridle on and slipped the bit into his mouth. She glanced at the barn entrance which was empty. Good. She still had a chance to get out of here.

  She attached the reins to the horse and led him to the buggy where she hooked him up, her hands working fast as excitement welled up in her. It was happening! She was actually doing it!

  Just as she turned to get into the buggy, Ernest stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the barn. Gasping, she stumbled backward and fell to the barn floor.

  “Where are you going, Julia?” Ernest asked in a cool tone as he slowly moved forward.

  She scrambled to the door while she struggled to stand up. Tripping on her skirt, she fell back down.

  Ernest strode to the doorway and blocked her exit. “You didn’t answer my question, Julia. Where are you going?”

  She immediately backed away from him, but he reached down and yanked her up by the arms.

  “Where are you going?” he yelled before he slapped her so hard she fell back to the floor.

  Shocked, she couldn’t react in time to avoid him when he bent over her and punched her in the jaw. She covered her face with her arms and screamed at him to stop, aware of the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

  But he didn’t stop. He hit her on the arms and the sides of her head until she heard her ears ring. When he paused, she attempted to get out of the barn, but he kicked her in the side.

  Her first thought was to protect her child so she rolled onto her stomach and covered her head, sobbing hysterically into the moldy hay littering the barn floor. “Stop! Please stop!”

  “You won’t leave me again, Julia!” He continued to kick her in the side. “You hear me?”

  “I won’t! I won’t leave!” she cried out, her body shaking.

  He stopped and the only sounds in the barn were her racking sobs and the horse’s neighing. Standing over her, he watched her, his face void of emotion.

  She turned her face away from him, not wanting to see those cold eyes. Her stomach turned and before she knew what was happening, she was vomiting what little food and water remained in her. Blood dripped out of her mouth with her stomach’s contents. When she finally stopped heaving, she lifted her head to gasp the fresh air so her stomach would settle.

  “Julia,” Ernest whispered as he knelt beside her. “Why did you make me do that? I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she muffled her sobs. In her mouth, she felt the area where two of her lower teeth had been knocked out when he punched her. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. A part of her felt that this couldn’t be happening. She felt as if she was standing to the side of the barn and watching it all take place. And yet, the other part—the more real part—of her couldn’t stop shaking. All she could do was breathe and pray her child was still safe in her womb.

  Ernest picked her up, this time with a touch so gentle it made her tremble. There was no comfort
to be had in the way he was now handling her. She continued to cry silently as he carried her back to the house, whispering words of love that were meant to sooth but only frightened her all the more. He was unpredictable. One minute brutal and the next kind. Despite the heat of the summer night, she shivered, her teeth chattering.

  “We’ll get you a blanket,” he softly told her.

  She didn’t answer as he brought her into the shack. The light from the kerosene lamp struck her eyes, producing a headache that made her wince.

  “Here.” He laid her on his cot and patted her head. “There you go. It’s better now, hmmm?”

  Though she looked right at him, she didn’t fully see him. She saw Chogan leaning over her and smiling. More tears came to her eyes. Even as Ernest brushed them away and kissed her on the top of her head, she imagined it was Chogan and held onto the memory of how protected and safe she’d felt when Chogan touched her.

  Ernest turned away to dim the light on the lamp. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  He took the blankets that had been in her room and laid them out. Then he settled into them.

  She stayed awake until he fell asleep. For the longest time, she stared ahead at the wall, not seeing anything. In her mind, she was in bed with Chogan. He had his arms around her and she settled against him. Protected. Safe. Loved. She blinked and more tears fell from her eyes.

  ***

  Noah rode as the sunrise came over the horizon, fear from almost being shot pushing him to keep going. A part of him felt that no matter how far he traveled, he’d never be safe.

  I never should have agreed to work for Ernest.

  His mother was right. She warned him that if Ernest was paying him as much as he was, then Ernest was up to no good. Little did he know just how bad things would get if he allied himself with Ernest.

  And had it not been for Julia intervening when she had, Noah knew he’d be dead. All along Ernest planned to kill him as soon as Noah had worn out his use.

  Noah saw two figures in the distance. It didn’t dawn on him that he was approaching two other riders until he was nearly upon them. Startled, he pulled back his reins and waited, gasping as the two men made their way toward him.

  Noah brushed the hair out of his eyes so he could get a better look at them. He inhaled a few deep breaths, hoping to steady his nerves.

  One of the men tipped his hat. “Good morning, Mr. Hawk.”

  Noah gulped. “Y-you know me?” He didn’t recognize either of the two men, so why would they know him? He cleared his throat, aware his heart rate had picked back up.

  “You used to work at the Bismarck Tribune. You distributed newspapers,” the man said.

  “Uh…”

  Noah paled. Oh no. They knew. They knew he was in cahoots with Ernest and that Ernest stole money from the bank before he headed out to kidnap Julia. They knew everything. And worse, they knew Noah helped by spying on Julia, getting Sarita involved, and getting those train tickets. Noah tightened his hold on the reins. How he wished he could go back and do it all over. Then he wouldn’t have gotten involved with Ernest at all. His mother had been right. He should have stuck it out at the Tribune and worked hard instead of expecting his skin color to advance him. I should never have begrudged Chogan the promotion. God, if only I could go back in time and do it all over…

  “Mr. Hawk?” the man asked, breaking Noah from his internal litany of his regrets.

  Noah blinked and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, I’m Noah Hawk.” Might as well come clean. He’d committed a crime, and he’d have to pay his dues. He closed his eyes and sighed. His mother would be so disappointed. How was he supposed to tell her the truth?

  “I’m Conrad Williams and this is Gary Milton,” the man said, motioning to the tired man beside him. “Have you seen a man and a woman riding a buggy?”

  Noah let out a light whimper and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He’d have to come clean and confess. The sooner he did, the better. “Yes, sir.”

  “You have?” Gary asked, looking hopeful. “Where?”

  “Uh…” Noah glanced back from where he came. “Just north of here but a little more to the west. They stopped at a deserted cabin. Not sure how many miles out they are from here. I’m heading back to Bismarck. I…” He swallowed again and continued, “I need to turn myself in.”

  Conrad’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

  Wincing, Noah said, “Because I helped Ernest abduct that woman.”

  Gary moved his steed toward him and snapped, “You what?”

  Conrad held his hand up to stop Gary. “Wait. He’s going to the sheriff to confess.” Looking back at Noah, he asked, “Is that right?”

  Noah nodded. “Yes. I am.”

  Conrad glanced at Gary. “He can help us. If he had a part in this, then he must know where Ernest is heading.” He returned his gaze to Noah. “Do you?”

  Noah nodded again. “Yes. They’re going to Jamestown. He has tickets to go to Canada. He plans to get to Jamestown in a week.”

  “Which is doable if they keep traveling east.” Conrad drummed his fingers on his thigh. “He plans to leave with Julia?”

  “Yes. I think he plans to marry her.”

  “That’s good.”

  Gary huffed. “How is that good?”

  “He won’t kill her,” Conrad replied. “He killed his first wife, but she was an imitation of Julia. What he really wanted was the real one, and now that he has her, he’s going to let her live.”

  “I know Julia, and she’ll never be with him willingly,” Gary muttered.

  “We won’t let him take her out of Jamestown.” Conrad scanned the landscape. “There’s no way we can know exactly which route they’ll take to Jamestown, but we know that’s where they’re going. Our best bet is to give up the trail she’s leaving and get to Jamestown.” He turned his attention to Noah. “What day and time are those tickets good for?”

  Noah told him.

  “We have enough time to get to Bismarck and tell the sheriff,” Conrad said. “Then we take the train and get there before they do.” He glanced from Noah to Gary. “Agreed?”

  Gary sighed. “I hate the thought of her with him, but I agree.”

  Conrad looked at Noah.

  “I can’t. The sheriff will put me in jail,” Noah replied. “Not that I refuse to go. I know what I did was wrong.”

  Conrad sat up straight and rubbed his neck. “I’m a detective, Noah, and I’ve been assigned to this case. I’ve had a terrible time getting Ernest convicted, but now I got him exactly where I want him. If you help us, then I’ll talk to the judge about going easy on you.”

  Noah realized this was the best thing he could do, especially in light of how bad things were for him at the moment. And if Ernest saw him in Jamestown and killed him… He exhaled. If Ernest killed him, Ernest killed him. But at least he’d finally be doing the right thing. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll do what I can.”

  ~~********~~

  Chapter 37

  “Julia,” Chogan whispered from where he rested on the bedroll.

  Citlali went over to him with a container of water and propped his head up under another blanket. “Drink this.”

  Chogan pushed his hand away. “Julia.” He tried to get up, but Citlali stopped him.

  “You need to heal.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “He’s hurting her.”

  “Gary and a detective went to find her.”

  “No. I need to go.”

  “You can’t.” Citlali tried to think of what to say to make Chogan rest. “You’ve been shot. The bullets are out, but you’re running a fever. If you’re not careful, you could die. Then what will all this need to find Julia do for you?”

  Chogan blinked several times before he looked at Citlali, as if just noticing him.

  “Gary is looking for her. She left a trail, so he should catch up to her soon.”

  Chogan continued to stare at Citlali, his eyes
giving no indication that he understood him.

  Citlali sighed and put the container to Chogan’s lips. “Please drink. You’re dehydrated.”

  Chogan finally parted his lips and drank the water.

  Relieved, Citlali gave him as much as he needed. When Chogan was done, he set the container on the ground. “You are a stubborn man.”

  Chogan reached out and grabbed his arm.

  Surprised, Citlali looked back at him. “What is it?”

  “Take me to her. Follow the trail,” Chogan said, his expression filled with worry.

  “It is not an easy journey.”

  “She’s my wife, Citlali. I love her.”

  Sighing, Citlali thought over what he might use to transport Chogan. There was no way Chogan could handle riding a horse—not in his condition. But, maybe, he might handle a buggy. Chogan hadn’t gotten very far when Gary found him, so the buggy Julia and Chogan had used was within a reasonable distance. “The buggy might work,” he slowly said, not sure this was a good idea. “And I have my horse.”

  “Please?” Chogan asked, his grip tightening on Citlali’s arm.

  He took a deep breath. “Fine. I will drive the buggy, but you will rest. I will do all the work. I also need you to eat and drink.”

  “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  Citlali hid his surprise. He never thought he’d hear Chogan say that, but it told him a lot about the love he had for Julia and a love like that wasn’t something seen often in the tribe—not with arranged marriages granted in hopes of acquiring sacred bundles and offspring. Citlali wasn’t one to envy another man anything, but in this one situation, he did. Woape hadn’t considered him worth marrying. She’d run off into the unknown to avoid him. As for Onawa… She was Woape’s sister, and who knew if she wouldn’t try to run off too as the date for their wedding approached?