by Lynn Landes
Harris sits back and stares at Sutton. “Why didn’t you bring him to town? I’m sure there is a doctor here who can help.”
“No, he can’t be moved. His injuries are bad. It looks like he tried to sew his own leg up.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I can’t just stop what I’m doing to come to your homestead,” Harris snaps.
“I expected you’d say that, but there is just one problem,” Sutton sips his coffee and waits for Harris to ask.
“What’s that?”
“The only thing he’s said when we asked his name was Rivers.”
“What?!” Surprise has Harris sitting back. The waitress whirls around.
“Is everything okay, Dr. Rivers?” she asks.
“Yes,” he snaps not taking his eyes from the man sitting across from him. She hurries away.
“I know, it’s a strange coincidence Dr. Rivers. You showed up on the same day that I came to look for a doctor. Our homestead is only fifteen miles from town. We have over five hundred head of sheep on five hundred acres. I can pay you for your time, Dr. Rivers.”
“Did he give a first name?” Harris asks ignoring the offer.
“No, he passed out and hasn’t woken up for two days.”
“What about his age, description?” Harris asks.
“Not sure, his face is pretty damaged, but I’d say the early twenties.” Sutton is evasive and glances around, desperate to be back on the road again.
“How soon can you be ready to ride?” Harris says, standing up and gesturing for the waitress.
Sutton grins, “I was hoping you’d say that. My horse is at the livery, across the street.”
“Is everything alright, Dr. Rivers?” she asks.
“I have to leave.” He hands her some money and a generous tip, and she smiles as both men hurry from the restaurant and are soon mounted up and on the way.
“Tell me his symptoms when you found him,” Harris demands.
“He was fevered, chills, moaning, thrashing, sipping water, but not eating.”
“Any rash? What about the bullet wound you described?”
“No rash and the bullet ripped through the outer thigh, he tried to sew it, but one corner broke open.”
“That’s not a bad thing, it can drain the wound and allow the infection to escape. I’m more concerned about him not waking up. Two days is a long time.”
They ride and talk about the ranch and their sheep herding business. Harris gives him information on the trains, and they talk about the wool and lamb prices that are in high demand right now.
Harris isn’t sure who this soldier is, but he might have information on Kimani and where she might be. Sutton glances at the Doctor and hopes he forgives the deception, but he doesn’t want to disclose Vanessa’s situation to anyone just yet.
Hours later Harris and Sutton ride into the Homestead just as the sun is setting. Trent and his wife Melody along with their son Billy greet him.
“Trent, let me introduce Doctor Harris Rivers,” Sutton says softly.
Melody gasps and looks at him in surprise. “Rivers?”
“I’m not sure if I’m related to your patient, but I hear he’s in rough shape.” Harris reaches for his leather bag containing his medical supplies while Trent and Melody glance at each other nervously.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Harris. Please come inside.” Trent replies and leads the way.
Harris steps into the modest two-room cabin, following his host and stares in stupefied shock at the sight in the corner of the room.
“No!” He shouts and stumbles to Kimani’s side as relief pours through his heart. Tears flood his eyes, and he drops to his knees beside her bed. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he is shocked by the heat coming from her body.
“She told us her name was Vanessa Rivers, Doc. We’ve taken care of her the best we could.”
Vanessa Rivers? Harris can’t speak for a moment. “Thank you,” he replies hoarsely.
“We’ll give you some privacy. If you need us, we’ll be outside.”
Harris doesn’t reply as he strips the covers from her body and rips open his bag. “God, please don’t let me be too late,” he whispers.
“Kimani? Can you hear me,” he calls her name as he surveys her body?
She’s wearing a nightgown, borrowed from one of the women and when he lifts it above her thigh and sees the sewn-up wound on her leg, he growls in rage. Pressing on the injury he is happy to see that it has finished draining, and has no striations running down the leg. No smell or leakage suggesting infection in the wound. Just to be safe, he cleans it and struggles to stop the trembling in his hands. There is not an inch of her body that isn’t scratched, bruised or wounded. Her legs are torn and bruised, and even her feet are damaged. His heart drops with fear when she doesn’t flinch or responds to his touch.
“Kimani, I’m gonna need you to wake up and fuss at me, like you always do.” Harris orders as he treats the wounds on her feet and works his way up her body, checking for broken bones or signs of infection.
Her purple ribs are damaged, possibly cracked, and he calls to Melody to help wrap them. Together they are able to lift her body and get the ribs treated. When they are finished, he lays her down gently.
“You will find not much of her body isn’t damaged in some way. Her scalp was bad, Dr. Rivers. I don’t know what happened, but it may be a blessing that she’s sleeping through this.”
“Her scalp?” He runs his hands through her hair gently parting it and hissing when he sees the damage. Dried blood is still caked in her hair. Tears fill his eyes, and he wipes the back of his hand across his eyes. “It looks intact, thank God.” He kisses her forehead gently. “Bruised, but it doesn’t look like they tried to scalp her.”
“They?” Melody asks softly.
“I’ve been searching for days. She’s the only survivor of an Indian massacre. I’d wager they’ll be looking for her.”
Melody gasps, “The poor girl. Is she your wife?”
Harris startles and nods slowly. “Not yet, but she was trying to get to my ranch. I imagine that’s why she gave you my name.”
“I see.” Melody watches the way he tends to her wounds, with trembling hands and a gentle touch.
“I don’t see any sign of infection,” Harris tucks the blanket around her and begins rolling up his tools.
“We used an herbal poultice on the wounds to fight any infection. She was fevered for the first two days but found the strength to fight it off. Now she just needs a reason to wake up,” Melody suggests and excuses herself.
Harris sits beside her bed and takes her hand. “Alright, Kimani. I need to see those beautiful eyes. Come back to me,” he whispers. No response. “Wake up!” he demands.
Kimani is walking through a sunny field of flowers, when a butterfly, black with blue and white markings flutters past her. She smiles and chases it. “Run, Butterfly,” Ahote teases from behind her.
Smiling, she turns to look at her husband. Ahote is grinning at her. “Time to wake up, now.”
Lifting a hand to him, she shakes her head no. “I want to stay with you, there’s no place for me in their world.”
Ahote steps towards her and the sky fills with dark clouds with thunder rolling. The ground rumbles beneath her feet. He drops his head. “Trust your heart, and don’t hold onto hatred, Kimani. One day you will forgive me.”
“No,” she takes a step to run towards him, but a strike of lightning has her leaping back in fear. “Ahote!” she screams as he shifts into a black wolf and runs from her.
Kimani drops to the ground and curls into herself, alone once more.
Harris sleeps for two days next to her bed, caring for her and waiting for her to waken. Her nightmares are bad enough that he’s afraid to leave her. Instead, he whispers to her promises and tells her stories of when they were children, purposely changing them to tempt her to wake up and correct him.
“Do you remember the horse race?”
�
��What race,” Billy asks.
“I was ten, and she challenged my brothers and me to a horse race.” It was the first moment he realized how amazing she was, racing across the field, bareback on that mare. “We assumed because she was a girl that she’d be easy to beat. She let us have the lead across the field for a few minutes, but the moment she leaned low over the shoulder and whispered to her horse, we didn’t stand a chance. They shot across the field, hair blowing, and it was like beast and girl were one. She was your age.” Harris grins and removes the rag from her forehead and dips it into the bowl.
“I let you win, you know,” Harris teases. I didn’t want you to feel bad. I hate it when your beautiful eyes get sad.” He dips the rag in the bowl of fresh water, dampening her lips and placing it over her forehead. Kimani frowns and Billy jumps up just as she speaks.
“Liar,” she whispers hoarsely. Turning her throbbing head to the side, she opens her eyes and stares into his as Billy runs from the cabin.
“Hey beautiful,” Harris drops to his knees and presses his forehead to hers. “God, you scared me.”
“Harris,” Is all she can say. “Harris!” she sobs his name over and over.
“It’s going to be okay, now.” He promises softly and wipes her tears. “You aren’t alone, anymore.”
Melody and Molly come running in with Billy only to stop when she hears Vanessa sob.
“They killed them all, Harris. Why?” She fists her hands in his shirt and sobs. “Why? I don’t understand.”
Melody shakes her head no at Billy and they back out of the cabin to give them some privacy. Wiping her eyes, she hugs Billy, and they go look for Trent. Molly follows slowly and closes the door behind her. “We need to pray for her.”
“I don’t know,” Harris replies climbing into the bed, he wraps her in his arms and weeps with her as memories of the tribe replay in his mind. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“Don’t let go,” she pleads, and he holds her shaking body until she falls back to sleep and vows to keep her safe.
“Never again,” he promises.
Chapter 15
Dane Rivers rides hard with his sons across the snow-covered plains towards the Spring Tribal site. They were lucky the sun is melting the snow quickly allowing them to ride easily. Finding the location is easy, it’s the same site they’ve always gone to. The telegram from Harris had been a shock to the whole family.
‘Massacre at the Spring Tribal. All Dead. Kimani escaped. Tracking her.’
A wagon train with supplies is following behind the Rivers to the site. They rode ahead to look for survivors.
“Chief Nashoba was resigned to the fact that it was time to move North to the protected lands. He signed a treaty, ensuring the safety of his tribe. That begs the question, why were they attacked?” Dane asks his sons.
“I don’t know, but tensions have escalated between the soldiers and the native Indians. Dalton had multiple trains attacked in the past few months by Indians, innocent people were slaughtered, and weapons were stolen.”
“Chase has friends he can talk to in the government. He’s already on his way to Washington.” Pierce offers, “Hopefully, he will get some answers.”
As they break through the trees and over a rise, the land opens before them. All three horsemen stop and stare, unsure exactly what it is that they are seeing. Puffs of steam flow from the horses and they stomp in the melting snow.
“Dad?” Pierce whispers and points to the field where a frozen hand reaches into the sky. The scene unfolds and paints a picture of horror. Steele narrows his eyes and stares at the mounds and body parts.
“Oh, God…” Dane murmurs and nudges his horse forward. What’s left of the teepees lay in burned heaps near the river. Bodies are partially frozen in horror filled pleas with handless arms and headless bodies covered in melting snow.
Steele swings down from his saddle and grabs the shovel from his pack, taking a minute to compose himself he closes his eyes against the leather saddle in a quiet prayer. He isn’t ashamed of the tears that he knows will come.
“Will we bury them together?” Steele asks.
Dane wipes his eyes and nods, “Yes,” he glances at Pierce. “Son, this will be hard, but we will honor them.”
Pierce nods and jumps from his horse. “Yes, Sir.”
The dead are scattered about, in various states of decay and death. “I’ll start digging the up the bodies,” Steele suggests, “Pierce, you start digging the hole near the field.”
Pierce wonders to the closest mound where a frozen face stares up at him. He kneels down to swipe the slushy snow and gags when he recognizes the woman’s face. Leaping up, away from the body he shouts out in horror.
“They mutilated her!”
Dane rushes to his son, while Steele walks over and takes a closer look. Her nose is missing.
“Damn!” Steele walks to a second body with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He inspects the closest victim, before turning to his family.
“All of them, so far, have been mutilated in some way.”
“Why would the Army condone this?” Pierce demands.
“I don’t know, Son,” Dane replies hoarsely.
“The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can report to Chase. They need to know what happened here.” Steele snaps.
“The wagon train will be here soon. For now, we can ride through and see if we can find any survivors.”
“Harris said we…” Pierce starts to say, but Steele interrupts him.
“I know what Harris said, but let’s pray he’s wrong.” Steele mounts up and rides towards the river.
Dane and Pierce follow slowly, “I hope Harris found Kimani.”
Chapter 16
“Harris went to get cleaned up, Vanessa. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you’d like a bath.” Melody offers opening the door and gestures to the women waiting to come inside.
Sutton carries in a large copper tub and places it in the center of the room with help from Trent. Vanessa doesn’t reply, she sits in the corner and stares out of the window. Sutton frowns, and they all start bringing in buckets of water.
“I thought with your injured leg this would be best. Though we have running water at the main house, we haven’t gotten to it in the smaller cabins yet.” Melody chats softly and signals for them to leave her.
Vanessa startles when the door closes. “Thank you.” Glancing down at her borrowed nightgown and robe she frowns. “How long has it been?” she murmurs.
“Six days, since we found you.”
“I must look and smell horrible.”
The water looks tempting, and Melody smiles at her.
“I can help with that.” She offers a hand and helps her stand up slowly. Her leg is healing quicker than her ribs. Gasping in pain, she clutches at her ribs and takes a slow breath.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea, after all,” Melody frowns.
“No,” Vanessa clutches at her hand, “Please, I want to feel… clean again.”
Melody grins, “That settles it then.” They walk to the tub and Melody helps her into the steaming water.
Vanessa groans in ecstasy. “Tukumpeh!” She glances at Melody and smiles, “Heaven!”
Melody blanches when she sees the cuts, bruises, and scars littering her body. “Thank you,” she offers her a rag and bar of soap.
“I hope you like this soap, I made it from honeysuckle and rose.” Melody offers her a pink bar.
Vanessa smells it, and her eyes fly open wide with delight. “Oh, debizizzaa!”
“I hope that means you like it?” Melody asks.
“Yes, it’s Shoshone for wonderful!”
“You were raised by the Shoshone?” she asks quietly.
“Yes. Ahbe’ found our wagon train when I was a toddler.” She sinks low into the water and sighs in relief. “My father said I was the child of his heart,” she murmurs and closes her eyes tightly against the memory of her family.
�
�I see.” Pity fills her heart when she thinks about the loss this woman has experienced. Two families in such a short time. How will she survive it? “I’ll just go get you a change of clothes. I have a dress that will fit you.”
The soap is put to good use as Vanessa scrubs her body twice, before, deciding to wash her hair. She ducks her head beneath the water to rinse her hair, and when she opens her eyes, a silent scream erupts as Nashca’s lifeless body stares back at her. She erupts from the water screaming and coughing, scaring Melody to death. Shivering, she wraps her arms around herself and sobs out, “Nashca!”
Harris is outside when he hears the scream. He bursts inside with his pistol ready and stares at her trembling in the tub.
“Nashca,” she cries, hiding her face in her upturned knees.
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Rivers! I only went to grab a change of clothes for her,” Melody exclaims.
“It’s okay, Melody, I’ll stay with her.” Kimani seems oblivious to the fact that she’s naked in a tub in front of him, but he can’t bring himself to leave her.
Melody nods and lays the clothes on the bed before leaving. Vanessa shakes herself and grabs the bar of soap with trembling hands and begins to soap her hair. Hissing in pain at the tenderness in her scalp.
“What happened to Nashca?” he asks softly kneeling next to the tub. Harris scoops a cup of water and pours it over her back to keep her warm. His eyes trail over her back, smiling at the freckles that star her pale skin. His Doctor’s eyes categorize every bruise, scratch, and cut. There is nothing sexual about seeing her in this condition.
“She was so excited, Harris. Dyami made his offer, and it was accepted.” Tremors rack her body, but she smiles softly thinking of her sister’s joy.
Harris pours water over her back. “Look up,” he pours water over her hair when she responds and washes the soap clear. Blood tinged streaks stream down her bruise covered back from her hair as he rinses it.
“They shot her. Thank God she wasn’t alive for the rest. They roped her like a biavie,” animal, she whispers, “dragging her from the water.” Vanessa doesn’t see the horror in his eyes as he rinses her hair.