Stone Heart's Woman

by Velda Brotherton

  Surely these would be the last of the lot. Any left out there after this length of time were surely dead. With no food and sparse clothing, they could not long survive this cold. Even so, he would not make his move until the last soldier had returned from the hunt and all escapees were confined in one place. When they escaped, they must all go together. He would see to that. And he must do it without involving A’den.

  Hardening his heart against the pathetic string of prisoners, he kept them in view without showing himself until they filed into a long, low wooden structure near the hospital. Behind them a wagon loaded with those too injured to walk stopped at the door of the hospital. Several soldiers began to unload and carry the bloody Indians inside. To watch was enough to rip his heart from his chest. Rage overpowered him. It was all he could do to remain in hiding and not rush out to club as many white soldiers as possible before they took him down. Crouched low, he gazed through the open doors, saw the wounded lying side by side along the entire length of the building. Even as the new arrivals were taken in, the dead were moved out. Hauled to the mill and stacked with the others, he guessed.

  Breath caught painfully in his chest, Stone Heart turned from the gory sight, hunkered deep into the shadows alongside the sutlers to wait. For what he was not yet sure.

  ****

  After Wessells returned Aiden to her quarters, she sat on the bed trying to decide what to do. Seeing the young mother carrying her dead baby had made her understand why Stone Heart had to help these people. And she must help him. It would be impossible to live with the knowledge that she had done nothing while they suffered so severely. Nor would she try to stop Stone Heart. She had no idea how she would find him in this sprawling place, but after dark she would try.

  Aiden had always pictured a fort as a place surrounded by high walls and lookout towers, but Fort Robinson appeared more like a large settlement sprawled across the plains. Row upon row of barracks were surrounded by many businesses, like any town. There was even a chapel and a hospital. All to see to the needs of the many soldiers stationed at this remote outpost, their families, and those civilians who passed through by stage. Finding him would not be easy if he was out in the open. That he was hiding would make it even more difficult.

  In only a few moments she learned just how impossible the task might be when she answered a tap on the door to be faced by a young soldier.

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am? I’m Private Hedges. The captain wishes me to see to your needs while he’s gone. If you want anything, let me know.”

  “I want to take a walk.”

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am. The captain...I mean, you’re to be confined to quarters until he returns.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why?”

  Remaining at attention, the private never changed his solicitous tone. “I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am. You’ll have to speak to Captain Wessells about that.”

  “Well, get him then. I wish to speak to him.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. But the captain has already left.”

  “Left?” Stricken mute, she searched for something to say. Wanted to yell and scream but knew it would do no good, and so gritted her teeth. “I see, and when will he return?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am. Is there anything I can get you?”

  Without answering, she slammed the door in the young soldier’s face. If there’d been anything handy, she’d have thrown it. At the private or at the window through which she could see him leaned up against a post. Now what was she going to do? With no entrance or window at the back there was no escape save through the front door.

  Then she lit upon a solution that might work. Fixing her hair and smoothing her skirt, she tapped on the window, motioned to the private.

  He swung open the door, stood at attention. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I wonder if you could find out where my husband is and have him sent to me?”

  The young man’s features blanched, then turned a fiery red. “Your husband, ma’am?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said. I’m sure the captain didn’t intend for me to remain here all alone. Did he?” She used one of the many gestures that had once garnered her hoots and whistles when she performed on the stage. Curled fingers stroking her throat and down between her breasts while her face conveyed sweet innocence.

  “Well...uh...no. I mean, I...he did not mention a husband.”

  “We were brought to the fort together. The trapper, Josiah Meeker? Surely you remember?”

  “I was out on another patrol, ma’am. We only arrived back last night.”

  “Well, then,” she said brightly. “I guess you’ll have to ask someone else. I would really like to see him. It’s very lonely shut up in here with no company.”

  She lay a hand over the cuff of his jacket and squeezed gently. “Unless you...?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. The captain would have my head.” He backed off, pulling the thick fabric from her fingers. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” she said and closed the door slowly, keeping her gaze pinned on him.

  She’d begun to think her ploy hadn’t worked when there came a loud knock. Eagerly, she opened the door to face a stunned Meeker, grabbed his arm, she hauled him inside.

  “Jehosaphat, what in thunder’s going on?”

  The bang of the slamming door shook the walls. “I need your help. They need your help.”

  Confused, he glanced quickly around the room. “Who they? What’s going on. I thought you said I wasn’t to even come near you.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Pulling the ratty fur hat from his head, Meeker grinned, showing stained teeth. “Oh, you don’t say?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped and faced him down. “Did you see them bring in the Cheyennes?”

  “Yeah, I did. What of it?”

  “And you remember our friend from earlier, Stone Heart?”

  “Yeah. Again, what of it?”

  “He wants to break them out so they can go home, and I want to help him, but they’ve put me under guard and I can’t get out.”

  “Is that so?”

  She pointed another sharp gaze at him, lifted her shoulders.

  The black beard bounced, dark eyes gleamed. “Me? Oh, no, not me. I’m fixing to go over to the agency, replace my animals, and get back to my trapping. I ain’t got no time to be fooling with no half-dead Indians.” Gesticulating, he glanced toward the window.

  She grabbed a waving arm. “Listen to me for a minute. It won’t take long. I just want you to find Stone Heart and bring him to me tonight, after it gets dark. You don’t have to do anything with the Cheyenne.”

  “And what about that’n?” Again Meeker waved a dirty hand, this time in the direction of the guard.

  “Hush, he’ll hear you. Hit him on the head.”

  “What?” he shouted, hunched his shoulders and repeated the word under his breath. “What?”

  “Change clothes with him and pretend to be the guard while I go with Stone Heart. We’ll be back before daybreak.”

  “If that ain’t the wildest notion I’ve ever heard. And jest what am I supposed to do with the young man after I hit him over the head?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Drag him off somewhere, tie him up, gag him. It’s just till morning.” She glanced in all directions. “I know, take him in the back of a building, the livery or the blacksmith, cover him up good. No one will find him before daylight.”

  “And suppose I get caught. What then?”

  “You won’t get caught. Are you afraid of a little ole captain and a bunch of green-behind-the-ears recruits? I thought you mountain men were braver and more foolhardy than that.”

  “Well, I reckon we are. But we ain’t foolhardy enough to do something for nothing. Give me a good reason, I might do it.” He leered at her bosom.

  Mind racing she backed away. Maybe she had miscalculated. She could think of absolutely nothing to say.
>
  He gestured with curled fingers. “Come here, give me a little kiss. I ain’t had a purty woman like you in ages.”

  Probably never had a woman, “purty” or not, she thought, but struggled to smile. “Not now, he’ll hear.” Pointing at the door, she hurried on. “Later, after we do what has to be done.”

  “Well, now, missy. That ain’t right. If I’m supposed to be your husband, then what would it matter if he heard? Why do you suppose he thought you sent for me, to pass the time of day?”

  Crossing her arms under her breasts, she widened her eyes. “Oh, I just couldn’t with him out there knowing what we’re doing. Ladies don’t do things like that. Once we’re out of here...” She let the words trail off, not willing to voice a promise she had no intention of keeping. She’d deal with that when the time came.

  He eyed her up and down, licked his lips. “What’ll you do if I say no?”

  “Have that young man come in and throw you out.”

  “Come between a man and his wife?”

  Without hesitation she headed for the door.

  “Never mind, never mind. I’ll do it. But you’d better not try to cheat me out of what’s mine after this is done and over.”

  “No, I won’t. I promise you I won’t cheat you out of what’s yours.”

  After eying her for a moment longer, he nodded. “I’ll have to wait till dark.”

  “Fine. Just find Stone Heart and bring him here.”

  “What’n if I can’t ?”

  Both jumped when a loud knock sounded. In a trembling voice, she called out. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Dinner is ready. They’ve brought a tray. Sorry they didn’t bring enough for...for your husband.”

  Quickly, before Meeker could utter a sound, she swung the door open. “Oh, that’s all right, he has to leave now anyway. Just put the tray in there on the table.”

  Sticking her head outside, she spotted a few men running toward the mess hall. “Go on,” she said to Meeker. “I’ll be waiting.”

  With a frown that brought thick brows together above his scarred nose, he hurried away, turning once to stare back at her. He was none too happy, but she thought he would probably do as she wished, just on the chance he’d get his hands on her later. She shuddered to think of that and hoped she could handle the situation when it arose. In the back of her mind lurked the question she could not answer. Suppose he couldn’t find Stone Heart?

  ****

  Much as he wanted to hang around outside the back of the mess hall while they were serving the noon meal, maybe get his hands on some food, Stone Heart knew better. In broad daylight, he’d be caught, and he couldn’t take the chance.

  He had to wait till dark. Tonight after supper, he’d figure out a way, even if all he could find were the leftover scraps. The starving people would be glad for anything. So he hunkered down behind a stack of wooden boxes in a narrow alleyway between the sutlers and the freight office. From there he could see the main thoroughfare and all who came and went, and down the row a ways, the quarters where A’den was housed.

  With a sinking heart, he had seen the guard talk to her, then take up watch outside her quarters. Saw Meeker come and go. Squashed an urge to wave at her when she leaned out the doorway after they brought her food. Obviously, the captain had ordered her confined to quarters, probably because of her action when the Cheyenne were brought in.

  He’d never get to her now, even if he wanted to. On thinking about it, that was probably a good thing. In all probability, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself at least going in to tell her goodbye. One look at those green eyes and all their promises and he’d have been lost. Now he didn’t have to worry.

  A while later Meeker came out of the mess hall along with a lot of the other men and started slowly along the boardwalk, walking a ways into each alleyway as if searching for something or someone.

  Blowing on cold fingers, Stone Heart stomped his feet and yearned to move into the pale wintry sunlight that slanted across the dark shadows around him. He dared not, for fear of being spotted. Curious, he continued to observe Meeker’s strange actions until finally he figured out what he was doing.

  The man was looking for him. She’d sent him out to look for him.

  Couldn’t let the trapper find him.

  Sneaking around back of the sutlers he worked his way from building to building, until he was opposite the mess hall. Lingering odors of food cooking filled the cold air, making his stomach rumble. He could just imagine how his people felt after having been on the run out in the cold for several days. If Wessells remained true to form, he wouldn’t bother feeding them. Not until they all agreed to go back south to the Indian Nation. And they would never do that.

  All day the fort was a bustle of mounted troops, sometimes fifty and sixty at a time, leaving to hunt for more of the escapees, or returning with a few more half-dead captives. In all the excitement, he was able to make his way to the back of the main mess hall by late afternoon. A’den had said there was a locked shed where they kept the frozen meat, and that leftovers were discarded there as well. Leftovers would be by far the better choice, for they would be cooked, even though all mixed together in a hodgepodge of meats and vegetables, bread and desserts. Starving people would scarcely care.

  Keeping careful watch, he could hardly contain himself as the aroma of cooking food wafted through the cold air. He could almost taste the beef and beans he knew to be common fare at the forts. Scrounging around, he found a barrel half filled with what looked like yesterdays discards from the kitchen. Already frozen around the outside. That’s probably where they would put today’s leavings, as well. A large tarpaulin was stretched over some wooden crates in front of the meat storage unit. Under it he found several small wooden kegs. Breaking one open, he saw it was filled with hard tack. Supplies for the soldiers when they left on patrol, he supposed. He broke open another, and dumped the contents so he could fill it with leftover food from the kitchen. He could carry both to his people. Then he slipped into a space beneath the tarpaulin to wait.

  Wrapped in the elk robe, and sheltered from the wind, he squatted in the musty dark in relative comfort. Listened to the men as they arrived out front and went inside. Laughter and shouting crackled the air that turned bitterly cold as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. He scarcely breathed for fear someone would see the thick clouds of vapor coming from his mouth.

  At last he heard the back door creak open, peered out and saw a man in a white apron carrying two large buckets. Scrunching deeper into the space between two crates and holding his breath, he watched him dump both in the barrel. Scrapings from the men’s plates, no doubt. Men doing duty in this cold country tended to eat everything they could get their hands on. But cooks also prepared more than they could normally use, and that too would be stored in the shed.

  After the door closed and all grew fairly quiet, he crept from his hideout with the empty keg. In the light of evening, he could scarcely make out the contents of the barrel. It didn’t matter, it was food. With both hands he scooped out every morsel down to the frozen leavings and licked his fingers clean. He’d been right, potatoes and gravy, the flavor of beef. His empty stomach begged for more, but he didn’t take the time. He had to get this food to the prison barracks, somehow get it inside to the people. Hefting a keg under each arm, he scurried through the darkness to the side of the prison barracks. There he set both kegs on the ground and leaned against the planking to catch his breath. From inside he could hear the feeble cries of children, women’s voices strained by hopelessness, the low rumble of men arguing.

  Cautiously he leaned out far enough to spy the barred double doors in front of the place. No guard in sight. Heart hammering, he turned to pick up the kegs, and knelt there, an arm around each one, he heard and saw the booted feet approach too late to do anything but wait and see what the guard would do.

  The sentry did exactly as Stone Heart expected. He brought his rifle to bear and shouted, “H
ow in thunder did you get out?” Then raised his voice. “Injun, Injun. Out back.”

  Another guard raced around the far end of the building. “Where’d he come from?”

  “Danged if I know, I came around the corner and there he was. See what he’s got. No, wait, better sound the alarm and check the barracks. Savages must’ve made themselves a hole. Dang, keeping these animals penned up is nigh to impossible. Wessells’ll kill us if we’ve got another outbreak.”

  All the while he spoke, he kept his rifle trained on Stone Heart. The other soldier ran between the buildings crying out in a loud voice. Men poured from the surrounding barracks, some hopping into their boots and snapping suspenders in place as they trotted across the yard.

  Stone Heart’s captor shoved him up against the barracks wall. “Whatch got here?” Keeping the rifle stuck in his stomach, the guard leaned over to inspect the keg. “Stealing food, huh?” He shoved him along roughly toward the front of the prison barracks. “Open up the door so I can get this one back in. The rest of you check along the back yonder, see where he got out. There may be more of ’em running around out here.”

  Before they could get the steel bar off the door, two soldiers approached carrying the kegs of food and hardtack.

  “Look here. Looks like he was stealing food for ’em. Good God, this is garbage, this’n some of our rations. Danged heathens.”

  The one holding the kegs of food moved toward the door. “Poor buggers. What would it hurt to let ’em have this? They got women and kids in there.”

  “Not on your life. Wessells found out he’d have us up on charges. Probably court marshal the lot of us. Take it back where it come from. Besides, they’re just a bunch of ignorant savages. Even animals deserve better. If you’re smart you’ll forget you even asked.”

  The corporal studied Stone Heart, then shrugged and walked off.

  Stone Heart remained stoic and did not speak. Fury blackened his vision. These brutal white men cared so little for his people they wouldn’t even feed them discards from their table. He had failed, and now they would all die.

  A soldier slid the heavy bar off and opened one of the heavy doors. Another one shoved him through into the smelly darkness where he fell to his knees. He wanted to cry out his fury, his frustrations, his anger, his disappointment.