Stone Heart's Woman

by Velda Brotherton

  She mimicked the two men, crossing her legs and sitting before the fire to enjoy the rich odor of cooking meat and soak up the heat.

  Stone Heart threw her a scowling glare that she didn’t quite understand, under the circumstances. Things looked a lot better than they had twenty-four hours ago, even with the storm raging outside. He was probably just mad at something this man had done or said. Or perhaps angry because he was there at all. It might have wounded his pride to accept help from the bearded trapper.

  He said little while they ate, ripping a chunk of meat off his stick and handing it to her each time she finished off one. By the time they’d eaten their fill, her mouth burned from stuffing it full of steaming elk straight from the fire. Stomachs gorged on the sweet, juicy meat, Stone Heart attempted to settle the sleeping arrangements. She would lie nearest the fire with him next to her and the trapper next to him. Of necessity they would have to huddle together to share body warmth.

  “Won’t work too good,” Josiah grumbled.

  “Has to.” Stone Heart frowned and began to lay out furs, as if his word was final.

  “Then she can get up and put wood on the fire when it burns down, her being the nearest.”

  Drowsy and almost asleep, she listened to them argue one point after another. They could think what they wanted, she wasn’t getting up once she fell asleep.

  “I’ll do that,” Stone Heart. “And you as well.”

  “Then, put her in the middle.”

  The two men were quiet for a while, then Stone Heart shook her.

  “What? Leave me be.”

  “Don’t complain, just wrap up in this blanket.” He proceeded to help her until he had her well bundled.

  “What in thunder you doing that for?” Josiah asked.

  “So you can’t put your dirty hands on her.”

  “I’m damned,” Josiah said, shaking his head. “I’m be-damned.”

  She peered at Stone Heart, who stood over her, arms crossed over his chest. He acted as if he was protecting her from this man. Sleepily, she wondered who would protect her from him, but fell asleep before she could come up with an answer.

  Far into the night, Stone Heart rose, crawled out to gather an armload of wood, but decided to take a quick call of nature before doing so.

  His moccasins creaked across the frozen land. There was no wind and it had stopped snowing. Stars lit the midnight sky. The air was so cold it burned his lungs with each breath. Turning his back to the shelter, he thought he heard something off in the distance. A cough, a laugh, a human or animal? He didn’t know. Someone or something was nearby. He darted behind a thick pine and scanned the area closely. No one would be out on a night like this, surely. There it was again! It sounded like a horse...or more than one.

  Hunched over, he crept toward the noise. Stepped deeper into the pines and spotted the dim flicker of a fire. Holding his breath, fearful his hammering heart would alert the camp, he slipped into a stand of willows.

  From there he could see the hulking shadow of several tents like the Army used. What were soldiers doing out here?

  Then it dawned on him precisely what they were there for. They were still hunting the Cheyenne that had broke out of Fort Robinson. And their orders could well be to shoot on sight rather than bring back the rebellious savages.

  Slipping away, careful not to step on anything that might alert anyone, for surely they’d posted a guard, he hurried back to the shelter. There he put a quick pack together, making as little noise as possible. It was him they would kill, not these two asleep by the fire. Ride him down and butcher him in the snow so that his blood would flow with that of all the helpless women and children killed in the frantic breakout. And what of Dull Knife? He did not know if he lived or had been killed. And the others? Many lay strewn over the land, from the bluffs to the bridge at the White River and beyond to the fort. If he was to live to set those who had survived free he had to go, and quickly.

  Quietly he fed the fire so it wouldn’t go out. When the soldiers came A’den would be safe and so would the trapper. He had done all he could for her, and must now think of his people. He had to leave before the white men awoke and discovered the shelter.

  For a moment he stood over her, curled in the nest of furs and blankets, locks of tangled red hair spread about. She dreamed of home, a look of serenity on her finely drawn features. This he knew, for he understood such a burning desire.

  He would never see her again, but knew that he would not forget the touch of her hands, the gentleness of her lyrical voice, the way her eyes sparked defiantly.

  “Farewell,” he whispered, and could say no more.

  His going made no sound nor shadow in the silent night. Behind him he imagined he heard her singing softly in a farewell of her own.

  Chapter Eight

  Horrific shouts ruptured the still winter’s dawn, jerking Aiden awake. A uniformed soldier ripped away the side of the shelter and she screamed. Josiah Meeker vaulted upright, temporarily tangled in furs and blankets. While he struggled, his shouts muffled, he soldier prodded Aiden in the belly with the barrel of his rifle. Fear struck her mute and she could only bite her tongue, close her eyes, and wait to die, furs and blankets hugged around her.

  Not so the trapper Meeker, who scrabbled about like a frantic trapped animal, shouting over and over, “Holy hell, holy hell.”

  From outside came a terse order. “Bring ’em out here.”

  The soldier grabbed her by one leg and dragged her from the shelter like a bundle of goods. Frozen in a grip of fear, she could only await her fate while her heart slammed against her chest. Behind her, the thunk of a solid blow cut off the trapper’s cursing.

  Fury released her from the frozen grip of fear and she kicked and struggled against the iron-hard grip. “Turn me loose, you demon from hell.”

  Dragging her a few more feet, he flung her into a snow bank where she landed face down. Finally able to dig her way free, she clawed snow from her mouth and eyes. Several soldiers circled around, their combined voices a rumble of indistinct threats. Other men poked about in the surrounding underbrush, obviously searching for someone or something. Stone Heart, no doubt, since he was nowhere to be seen.

  She had no idea what had happened to him, but prayed he was long gone from this place. The way these men acted, they were ready to kill someone, anyone, and she feared it might very well be her. They might have already killed the trapper, for she saw no sign of him either.

  Lying in the snow, surrounded by the excited young soldiers, fear filled her mouth like acrid sulphur water.

  A couple of them dragged a limp Josiah Meeker from the shelter and tossed him down beside her. He appeared unconscious, but thank God, he was breathing. She had no desire to be left alone with these marauding soldiers.

  “What do you want?” she managed to croak, throat dry as trail dust.

  A young officer stepped into the ring, signaled the others to lower their weapons and addressed her. “Lieutenant Woods, ma’am. You this man’s woman?” Face a snarl of disgust, he prodded Meeker with the toe of one boot.

  “His...I don’t...” Frantic terror crawled through her thoughts, still tangled in sleep. For a moment she couldn’t clear them. All she knew was an unattached woman in these circumstances would be treated with less respect than a married one.

  “He...we’re together, yes.”

  “Ma’am. Begging your pardon, but we can see you’re together. Is this man your husband?”

  Shoving herself to a sitting position, she raked hair from her face and fixed the young Lieutenant with a contemptuous glare. “Do you think a woman like me would be with a man who was not her husband?”

  He shrugged, grinned. “I have no idea what kind of woman you are, if you’ll excuse my bluntness. Who might you be?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “May I get up off the ground? It’s cold.”

  He nodded crisply, and the one who’d stuck the rifle into her belly helped her to her feet wher
e she stood hugging herself and shivering, bare toes curled.

  “May I have my coat and shoes?”

  The lieutenant nodded again and one of the other men rummaged around in the shelter until he came up with the disreputable buffalo coat and the moccasins Stone Heart had given her.

  “Looks too big for her, sir,” he said, holding out the coat and glancing at the dazed trapper. “Him too, for that matter.”

  “Anybody with you? You seen anyone along the trail?”

  “It’s mine, I mean, a man gave it to me over in Benson. I didn’t have one.”

  “Girl as pretty as you, looks like you could do better than this.” Woods jostled Meeker again with his boot toe.

  She grabbed the moccasins, slipped them on and huddled inside the coat without replying.

  “Well?” he finally said sharply.

  “What?”

  “I asked for your names and if you’d seen anybody.”

  “No, no one.”

  An eyebrow arched toward the trapper. “And you’d be?”

  The snappy question made her jump. Meeker was definitely in no shape to answer questions, and she didn’t want him to have the chance.

  “He’s Josiah Meeker and I’m...I’m Mrs. Meeker.”

  The lieutenant sighed with exasperation. “And you’re sure you’ve seen no one. Perhaps some renegade Indians. Cheyenne? We had a breakout down to the fort a few days ago and we’ve been following blood trails and rounding up savages ever since. Some are dangerous. You and your man ought not to be out here.”

  She glanced down at the bearded trapper.

  “Mind if I ask why you are?”

  The question pulled her attention away from her unconscious ‘husband.’” “No, I don’t mind.”

  After a long wait for her to go on, the lieutenant obviously lost patience with her. “I’m going to send the two of you on back to Fort Robinson. Private Cable here will escort you. Where are your animals?”

  “We have none.”

  “You’re out here afoot?” Renewed suspicion glittered in his brown eyes. “Sergeant, take a look around. Make sure this lady is telling us the truth.”

  Fearful they’d find Stone Heart hiding somewhere, she babbled, “We got caught up in the storm. Our horses died. We were trying to get back to the fort when last night’s storm hit and we had to wait it out here. We were going to walk in today.”

  He scrutinized her thoughtfully, then made up his mind. “Cable, put her on your mount with you, take Ritter’s horse for our friend here, and return as quickly as you get them delivered. We’ll continue searching the area till you get back. If you follow Hat Creek Road you should be able to return before nightfall.”

  Meeker turned over and groaned, began to wave his arms and shout nonsense.

  The lieutenant’s lip curled. He obviously had little patience with civilians. “Stand him on his feet. If he can’t sit a saddle, toss him over it. Gather their packs and get them out of here. Daylight’s burning. And waste no time getting back. They can explain their plight to Captain Wessells. It’s not our problem. We were sent to hunt down Indians not take care of greenhorns who haven’t got any better sense than to wander around Nebraska in the middle of winter.”

  Cable saluted, reined his horse toward Aiden, kicked his left boot clear of the stirrup, and reached down to help her on. She was not an experienced rider and mounted awkwardly, finally settling herself behind the saddle and clutching the young soldier around the waist. As she watched two men help Meeker aboard the second horse, and another throw up his pack, she prayed he wouldn’t get talkative and reveal not only Stone Heart’s earlier presence but her lie about them being man and wife. Hopefully, she would get a chance to warn him somehow before they arrived at the fort. He appeared too addled to do much more than hang on.

  Though she searched the surrounding area as they rode away, the Cheyenne was nowhere to be seen. She experienced a brief moment of disappointment, for she would probably never see him again. Still, she prayed for his escape. He had saved her life, and he had done it in a way she would never forget. No man had ever kindled her desires like he had.

  Despite all her concerns, her heart sang with relief and joy when they reached the well traveled road. Once at the fort, she would soon be on her way home to Saint Louis where she could forget all about her dreadful experiences out here. It would be a long time, though before she forgot the touch of the golden-haired warrior.

  By the time they reached Fort Robinson, it had become very clear to Aiden that she had talked herself into a complicated situation. All she wanted was to board the first stage headed east, but how to explain that to soldiers who would be told she was married to the trapper Meeker?

  The fort was large, with many wood-framed buildings scattered over a huge area. It looked more like a good-sized town. Soldiers on horses and afoot moved about, wagons came and went, noise from all manner of pursuits added to the clamor. Along the perimeter, a cluster of tipis housed Indian men, women, and children who watched their passage dispassionately. She did not know their tribal affiliations, but surmised they weren’t Cheyenne, for they didn’t appear to be prisoners. She couldn’t help peering at the dark openings as they rode past rows of buildings. In which one were the Cheyenne people being held? Was Stone Heart watching or had he already managed to get to them?

  Private Cable reined up in front of a slab-sided building that sported both a window and a door on the front. A sign read “Captain’s Headquarters.”

  “If you’d take my hand, miss, I’ll assist you.”

  She did, but still made a poor job of dismounting from behind him. After helping her down, Cable threw a leg over the saddle horn and gracefully slipped to the ground. Meeker, who had said nothing to her on the way in, dismounted and staggered. During the entire ride in he’d spent his time grumbling about the cold and being forced to leave most of his supplies at the shelter. She had to get him alone long enough to explain her little white lie, though she had decided to come clean about her true situation to the commanding officer at the fort. Leaving out Stone Heart’s part in it, of course. What could they do now anyway?

  Meeker stepped close beside her and took her arm. “Well, looks like we’re safe at Fort Robinson. Reckon what happened to our friend?”

  Her heart dropped into her belly like a stone in a clear pool.

  “Please, don’t mention him to these men.”

  His gleaming dark eyes regarded her for a long moment, then he tightened his lips and nodded. “Nothin’ to me, I don’t reckon

  She breathed a sigh of relief. The man had not registered her claim that she was his wife, and it looked like he was going to keep his mouth shut about Stone Heart. Now if she could just make things clear to this Captain Wessells, she’d soon be on her way home.

  Private Cable rapped on the door of the captain’s quarters, then went in, holding it for the two of them to enter. They faced a small, fair man, clean-shaven and immaculate in a crisp blue uniform, his nape-length hair parted and combed slick behind his ears. A black cheroot between his fingers trickled a thin cloud of smoke that filled the small room with a sweet, cloying odor. The large desk was strewn with all manner of papers.

  “Captain Wessells, sir,” Cable said with a stiff salute.

  “Yes, what is it? I’m busy.” The man’s eyes scarcely spared a glance for Aiden and Meeker.

  “We found these two, sir, in a shelter above Hat Creek. Say they haven’t seen any Cheyenne, sir, but Lieutenant Woods wanted them brought in.”

  Wessells waved a small, almost delicate hand. “Yes, yes. Where’s Woods and his men?”

  “Still out hunting Indians, sir,” Cable snapped.

  A glitter of enjoyment filled Wessells’ pale eyes before they strayed toward Aiden. “What manner of garb are you wearing? Looks like Indian getup to me. You been living with the Indians? You look white. Were you a captive, ma’am?”

  Aiden shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no, sir. I...I was lost and...
this man,” she gestured vaguely toward Meeker, “helped me out with some...with these things. I don’t know where he got them, sir.”

  Meeker snorted, opened his mouth to speak.

  Wessells held up a hand just as both Cable and Meeker appeared ready to say something.

  “Lost?” the captain asked, an edge to his voice. “What were you doing out there in the first place?”

  Aiden swallowed over a knot forming in her throat and tried to explain. “I...my name is Aiden Conner, sir. I’m from Saint Louis. It’s a long story, but I would appreciate it if you could allow me to board a stage headed east. I have no money, sir, nothing. All I want is to go home. I have nothing to do with the Indians, sir, nothing at all. Nor this gentleman either.” She gestured toward Meeker.

  Cable again attempted to protest but was outshouted by the captain.

  “Saint Louis?” Wessells barked. “How in the hell did you manage to get all the way out here to get lost?” Before she could reply, he waved vigorously in her direction. “No, never mind, I don’t have time for this at the moment. Private Cable, show this woman to one of the vacant family quarters, and for God’s sake have someone take her some hot water in which to bathe and wash that filthy hair. See if one of the officers’ wives will lend her some clothes. Maybe then we can tell if she really is a white woman, like she claims.”

  Meeker raised a hand. “Sir.”

  Aiden stiffened, fearful of what he might say.

  “And you are?” the Captain asked as if Meeker hadn’t spoken.