by Rita Karnopp
"Sleep," he said, tapping her on top of the head. He looked at her intently, then walked to the door. "I come visit later."
His wrinkled smile held warmth and love. She felt reassured. She loved the old Indian. Sarah allowed her lids to close.
Her thoughts filtered back to strong, gentle arms holding her tight while his heart beat rhythmically against her ear. She struggled for the scent that brought her a feeling of security.
It wasn't cinnamon bark that permeated her nostrils. Instead, the faint odor of bear grease and chewing tobacco reached her senses. Sarah opened her eyes. Giles Rutledge stood beside her bed, watching her.
"Sarah, love. I'm glad to see that you're looking so well. Doctor Bentley informed me that you have a couple of bruised ribs. I'm sorry to hear that. I understand that the hero rescued you. Is that true?"
Giles spoke so fast she found it difficult to understand much of what he said. "I don't know," she stammered. "I don't remember anything."
"You don't remember? That's a pity. There are a lot of jealous women who believe you spent the entire day with this wonderful gentleman. Even your mother has asked me to find out more about him. I can't believe you don't remember what happened to you all day long."
Sarah struggled to read his lips. "No. I don't remember anything."
He reached for her hand and Sarah jerked it away. The effort caused her slight pain. His curly, flaming-red hair framed his square jaw and rolled back behind his ears, almost touching his shoulders. Strikingly handsome, yes, but unfortunately, he knew it. Most women swooned when he came around, including her mother. Sarah wondered why he insisted on showering her with his attentions. She didn't even like him. She sensed untruths and secrets when around Giles. "Why are you here, Giles?"
"Surely you don't begrudge your fiancee visiting you, do you?" He smiled, twirling his red handlebar mustache with ease between long, skinny fingers.
"Stop calling me your fiancée," Sarah ordered, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Leave, Giles. I don't wish to see you now or ever!" She produced a cold stare, hoping to discourage him.
His steel-green eyes shimmered and his smile broadened. "Watch what you say, love. I just might do that. Then who would be fool enough to marry you?"
Her insulted reaction only seemed to amuse him. The fact he'd spoken the truth bothered Sarah. But marry Giles Rutledge? Never! She shuddered inwardly at the thought. "You know I don't love you, Giles. I don't even like you. I can't marry you. I won't!" She spoke slowly and clear in an effort to make sure he understood her words.
"I'm not all that bad, Sarah," he said, leaning his face closer to hers. "I seem to remember a warm kiss that promised great things for us."
She noticed his gaze travel over the thin blanket that covered her. "Your memory seems different than mine."
"Not true. I seem to remember I owe you a…should we say love bite?"
The memory of his bruising kiss filled her with repulsion. His mouth smothered hers. He held her tight against him, pinning her arms down. He'd gripped her buttocks with his free hand. She'd fought against his advances, unable to break free.
"I want you, Sarah!" He had told her, his breath hot against her face and his breathing rapid.
His actions frightened her. She'd done the only thing she could do. Bite the soft tissue of his lower lip. The taste of his blood sickened her. Her reaction stunned him. She remembered him holding his bloody lip, his glare icy-cold. His moment of hesitation allowed her to flee. She'd kept her distance since that day. Remembering caused shivers to spread over Sarah.
"You kissed me, Giles. I found it repulsive." She stiffened her back and gazed at him with defiance.
"You should be grateful I want to marry you, Sarah. Your parents are. Get use to the idea. Why can't you be more like your mother?"
He brushed the back of his hand against Sarah's cheek. She shrunk from his touch. "Please, Giles. Why are you doing this to me?"
"I plan to have you, Sarah. Why? Because I'd like to tame the General's daughter…like I did the General's wife!"
His words hit harder than a slap. Sarah fought the nausea threatening to rise. How could she? How could he?
"Imagine me, Giles Rutledge, married to the General's own beautiful daughter."
Her stomach muscles tightened. "Never!"
He leaned down, pressing his chest against her bruised ribs, his elbows pinning her arms against her sides. He grasped each breast in large hands and squeezed.
Sarah remained motionless, glaring at him with outrage.
"I already have permission to marry you. Your father finds me to be the perfect choice for a son-in-law, the husband of his daughter, and the father of his grandchildren. He wants a grandson you know. As for your mother, well let's just say she knows I perform admirably!"
"Never! I'll tell them how cruel and violent you really are. That I don't want to marry you."
"Sweet, Sarah. You aren't listening to me."
She realized his expression gloated of victory. "They already know me. I'm a fine officer and liked by all the men. And without bragging, you might say the women find me quite delightful, too. Who is going to listen to you?"
Amusement flickered in the gaze that met hers. "Please, Giles. Just leave me alone."
His gaze lowered, and then returned to her face. "I'll have you, Sarah, whether you want me or not."
Sarah's chest burned with pain from the pressure of his weight on her. "No," she managed to say. How could her father and everyone be fooled by this evil, disgusting man?
In one quick movement, Giles released his hold on Sarah. Slowly and steadily he rose, then turned around. The knife that had been pressed into his back now pressed into his chest.
"You touch girl again, I kill you!"
Sarah watched Trail Walker's dark eyes, blazing with anger.
"Listen here, Injun. Take that knife away or I'll put it through your heart."
"White boy only brave when hurting little girls. When you man, you fight me. Still I kill you." Trail Walker replied with contempt that forbade any further argument.
Giles swung his head around to look at Sarah, his eyes blazing.
She pressed the blanket up to her chin, staring at the men. She couldn't hear their words…but their postures told her everything.
Giles whirled back to stare at Trail Walker. "Watch your back, old man. When you least expect it, I'll put a knife through it."
Trail Walker leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Touch girl again and I kill you." He moved the knife away from Giles, gripping it protectively in front of his own chest.
"We'll see what General Bryson has to say about that!"
With one quick thrust, Trail Walker's knife bit deeply into the thin skin beneath Giles's chin. His body stiffened in shock.
"You take warning. You touch Sarah and I kill you. I give my word." Trail Walker lowered his knife and stepped back, allowing Giles access to the door.
Giles glared at Trail Walker.
Sarah watched as Giles pressed his fingertips into the warm, wet blood on his chin. Without a glance at either of them, he rushed out of the room.
Trail Walker hurried to Sarah. He clutched a trembling shoulder gently in each hand. "Sa-sak-si, he hurt you?"
"No. I'm fine."
"General think Giles fine man. I try to tell him that Giles is snake in grass. He not want to hear truth. He want daughter to marry fine cavalryman. I think father want Giles to be next general. Want Sarah to have son to replace one he lost."
"No. You don't mean it. I won't marry Giles. He frightens me. He may seem wonderful to everyone else, but…Trail Walker, there's something evil about that man." In her anguish, Sarah felt her words mumble together.
"Yes, little one. I understand your fears. I feel his evil, too. But he is slippery like the snake. I not trust Giles for long time."
"I won't marry him!"
"You must not think of this now. You should not be upset. You need to stay quiet. Tell me, Sarah, do you
remember anything more about day before sun set?" He sat down on the bed, once again resting his back against the bed foot board and facing Sarah.
"I keep trying to remember. I feel a man holding me. I remember he smells good and I like it. My head hurt and everything seemed fuzzy. The man gave me something to drink. It made my mouth pucker, but then the hurting stopped."
"Nothing else happened? Did something seem different to you? Something that might be important?"
Sarah closed her eyes for a brief second. "I do remember something, Trail Walker. The man held his hand over my mouth and his body tensed next to mine. It seemed like we were hiding. I remember being tired. That is all I remember."
Trail Walker knew he must to speak with Two Shadows. Before he felt no urgency; this new information changed all that. He sat forward and looked at Sarah closely. "You tell Giles what you remember?"
"No, only you." She thought for a moment then added, "Except I did tell Doctor Bentley I remember being dragged."
"Good. Tell no one. Especially not snake in grass. Something not feel right. I think Giles Rutledge crawling in hole with only one way out."
Chapter Three
"You've done quite nicely, Sarah. I know these past three weeks haven't been easy for you." Doctor Bentley said, shoving his old stethoscope down into his weathered black bag.
"It's been awful. Can I ride Gypsy now?" Through her excitement, Sarah had trouble getting the words out fast enough.
"Whoa," he said, raising his hand to still her words. "I said you are doing well. I think riding is a few weeks away yet."
She settled back, disappointed. "I want to go riding with Trail Walker."
"Don't be so upset. Trail Walker is going to be gone for an excursion, at least six days anyway. Your ride will have to wait."
"Trail Walker didn't tell me he was going anywhere." Excitement for her long awaited freedom faded.
"He's been up here every day since your accident. I took for granted he would have told you," Doctor Bentley said, looking around from obvious embarrassment.
Sarah found it difficult to understand his words when he wouldn't look at her. She watched his uncomfortable actions.
"Has your mother been in to visit you lately?" he asked, changing the subject.
"She brought me a letter from my Aunt Sophie who lives in Philadelphia. She didn't stay to talk though. Once she left a newspaper on my bed. I know she did it because my room smelled like lily-of-the-valley.
"She brought you a newspaper? I thought the General forbade both of you to read the paper?"
"He did. He doesn't think women should know all the dreadful happenings and politics that are printed in them. I don't know why she brought it to me."
He hesitated, measuring her for a moment. "Surely your father has stopped in to see you from time to time?"
She felt her composure, like a fragile shell around her start to crack. She fought to control the slight quiver of her bottom lip. "I saw the door close one morning and I noticed the sleeve of his jacket, and smelled his pipe tobacco. He never comes when he might have to talk to me." She held back the tears of disappointment.
"I am sorry, Sarah. I had thought…they were worried about you." He reached over and lifted Sarah's chin, forcing her to look at him. "I said they were worried when you didn't come home the night of your accident."
"Home. You call this a home? It's a room, Doctor Bentley. They don't care. I don't care either."
"Say, what brought this on? I thought you were excited about getting out of this room. Let's not be upset and start worrying about who cares and who doesn't. Things will work out, they always do."
Sarah shrugged to hide her inner misery from his probing stare. "When will they work out? When they marry me off to Giles?" She became silent, feeling defeat. She allowed Doctor Bentley to pull her fingers into his weathered, healing hands.
"Giles is a nice young man, Sarah. He doesn't care that you're deaf. He talks about his concerns for you every day. All the girls are jealous that he only wants you. Surely you must feel his love for you?"
"I hate him and I won't marry him!" She watched Doctor Bentley pick up his medical bag. His expression appeared to be of utter disbelief.
"Your father has already given his consent to your marriage. Perhaps you should reconsider how you feel, Sarah. I really must go see my other patients. You may get up and walk around the inside walls of the fort. Don't overdo it and you'll be just fine. Your father knows what's best for you," he said, heading toward the door.
Afraid to answer, Sarah gave him a brief smile as he walked from the room. Sarah closed her eyes, feeling utterly miserable. She didn't want to think about whether or not her father would make her marry Giles. The possibility became too frightening to imagine.
* * *
Sarah waited for the front door to close before descending the stairs. Six in the morning her father always left his office to inspect the troops. She used this time to sneak into his study and read the more than likely month old newspaper.
Sarah hesitantly entered the study. Cherry pipe tobacco smoke lingered in the air. Before closing the door, she glanced down the hall. Surprised, she watched Giles take great care in closing the front door. Why would he come into the house at this time of morning? He knew the General's schedule and he never visited her until noon. Did he come to be with Rachel? The thought sickened Sarah.
She watched him through the slightly opened door. He didn't go up the stairs, as she expected. He came straight down the hall…toward her! Sarah rushed across the room, then slipped behind the long, heavy drapes that were drawn across the windows. Her legs trembled with fear or excitement, she wasn't certain which.
Giles entered the room and closed the door behind him. He appeared comfortable in his actions, like he'd done it before.
Sarah watched him pull open the second drawer of her father's desk, then lift out some papers. She watched as his lips twitched into a cynical smile. He read for a few minutes, then put the papers away. He quickly left the room, leaving behind the sickening odor of bear grease and chewing tobacco.
Sarah rushed to her father's desk and opened the drawer. She shuffled through the papers, and then stopped at the order log for rifles. The last three rifle shipments had been attacked by a band of Blackfeet Indians. At least ten men on each shipment had been savagely killed, and all the rifles and military supplies had been confiscated.
But why would Giles want the rifle shipment information? Unless…no! Could Giles be behind all the attacks? She certainly wouldn't put it past him. Maybe no one other than Trail Walker would believe it, but she did.
If Giles sold the shipment information, and she could prove it, she wouldn't have to marry him! No doubt he'd been using her to gain easy access in and out of the house. Giles had out-charmed and outwitted himself for the last time.
Trail Walker had been right. He had wanted more than just her supposed hand-in-marriage. He wanted more than making her life wretched. He wanted information. But she needed proof. Her word against Giles wasn't enough. Who would believe Giles had even been in the General's study looking at the shipment logs? Everyone liked Giles. No. In order to accuse Giles…she needed proof.
When Trail Walker returned she'd tell him what happened. Maybe together they'd find a way to expose Giles Rutledge. Trail Walker would help. He had to.
She despised Giles and his deceit tore at her. She didn't know why she should be surprised that he used her. He never admitted he even liked her. He wanted to marry her so he could move up in ranks. That wasn't hard to believe. But to be a part of the raiding parties that killed all those young, unsuspecting cavalrymen? How could he do it?
He didn't care about her any more than the rest. A tear slid down her cheek. A wave of loneliness swept over her.
* * *
Content with his latest information, Giles made his way to the front door. He reached for the doorknob, and then stopped. "Damn, did I close that drawer?" he muttered under his breath. Wh
irling on his heels, he made his way back to the study.
Giles pushed on the door. Hearing the crackle of paper, he stopped. Sarah stood leaning over her father's papers. The very papers he'd only minutes ago been reading himself. Noting her tear streaked cheeks, he felt certain his secret remained no more. She'd understand the meaning of his learning about the rifle shipment information.
Giles felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. The question coming to mind, would she be brassy enough to go to her father? Would the General believe her? Giles couldn't take the chance one way or the other. Any suspicion cast his way could ruin all his plans.
Pulling the door closed, Giles hurried from the house. Damn! This complicated thing immensely. At noon the General would take the new troops out on a six-day excursion. If he could arrange for Sarah to have an accident or…he'd think of something.
He wouldn't let a woman ruin his plans. He'd waited too long for this. Pushing back a wayward strand of hair, Giles made his way toward the stables. He smiled and nodded to a couple of men. Fortunately, no one noticed the turmoil that surged within.
"Rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee." Giles hummed beneath his breath, walking past a line of marching men.
"She won't stop us, Mother," Giles mumbled, rolling his mustache. An image focused in his memory and he saw the plain wooden box that contained the body of his beloved mother.
Christian women had sung Rock of Ages with tears running down their faces, but they didn't care about his mother. Where were they when she needed friends, support or comforting?
The flag snapped in the wind, bringing Giles attention back to the present. He clenched his jaw, narrowed his eyes and fought the urge to let his feelings show. Soon he'd have his revenge, and then he'd go on with his life.
He didn't have time to dwell on it right now. First he had to get rid of Trail Walker, preferably for good. Then he'd worry about Sarah.
"Hey, Jed, you seen Trail Walker around this morning?" Giles yelled up at the gate guard.