by Lynn Landes
“Enough, time to sleep.”
Chapter 17
General Barclay walks through his hotel suite to the liquor cabinet and pours a whiskey into a glass tumbler. He sniffs it and swirls it in the glass before sipping.
“That smells odd,” he frowns and lifts the decanter to look at the honey color.
“It’s not his fault, General.” The glass shatters on the wooden floor even as the General whips around with his pistol pointed at his uninvited guest.
“Craig! What the hell are you doing in my room?” he barks.
Craig points to the couch, with his revolver, revealing the source of the smell for the first time. Evan’s grey body has stiffened with rigor mortis, and he lays at an odd angle, wrapped in a stained tarp.
“It took him two days to die, General, and it wasn’t a natural death. She escaped, I had to take care of Evan.”
General Barclay stares into the eyes of madness and treads carefully. “I’m so sorry to hear that. He was a true patriot. We will give him a burial worthy of his service.” He holsters his pistol before grabbing two more glasses and pours whiskey, offering Craig one.
“A toast to a life, well-lived.”
“Thank you, General,” Craig sniffs back tears and shoots the whiskey before standing up. “I knew you’d take care of him. I’m going after her. Bitch has to pay for killing my brother.”
General Barclay looks at Craig’s appearance. His face is torn up with odd cuts, his clothes are filthy, and he limps to the door. “Excellent, I can send help with you.”
“No, she’s mine!” He screams, “The bitch laughed at me and shot him in the stomach,” spittle flies and he throws the glass against the wall, clutching his head.
The General jumps and shuts his eyes against the rain of glass. “I understand, I understand.”
Craig walks closer to the General bringing the scent of trail and madness with him. “She laid traps for us like we were some kind of animals.”
“Indians are a disease spreading across this land. That’s why my work is so important, Craig. You must stop her. I can’t have any witnesses. Start looking for Dr. Harris Rivers. He’ll leave an easier trail, and I heard that he’s looking for her too. Kill them both. I’m leaving for Washington in two days. This needs to be taken care of Craig. No Witnesses.”
“You keep your promise to care for Evan, and I’ll bring you both their scalps. The rest of the parts is mine,” he snarls.
“Of course,” he pulls out his wallet and draws cash out, handing it to Craig. “Go eat, sleep, and get the supplies you need before you leave. There are three small towns between the Snake River and us. I’d start there. Dr. Rivers will need to refresh his supplies and horse sometime.”
“Thank you,” he glances at Evan and leaves as silently as he came.
Barclay walks to the window of his hotel suite and waits until he sees Craig leave before ringing his bell. “Something has to be done before this gets out of hand.” He’s ready when the knock comes at the door.
“I need the undertaker, I’ve had an unexpected guest,” he gestures to the couch.
“Of course, General,” the man says covering his nose with his hand. “Straight away.”
“I’ll need another room, as well. This one is compromised,” he demands.
“Yes, sir. I’ll see to it. Would you like to wait in the sitting room?”
“No, I’ll be back in an hour, make sure my things are moved.” He leaves before the man can move.
General Barclay knows what to do. He marches to his leather bag and pulls out enlistment papers he keeps for just such occasion. The Army appropriations act allowed the Army to enlist and employ native Indians whenever needed for whatever terms they deemed necessary. One comes to mind.
At the top of the paper, he writes the name, Blood Eagle, and the terms. He will act as an Army Scout to hunt down these three people, who are now causing a problem for him. Blood Eagle has come in handy in the past and he never fails. Scribbling quickly, he increases the pay and includes a bonus if the scalps are included. With a smile, he seals the envelope with the U.S. Army wax seal.
“Enjoy your last few weeks of freedom Dr. Harris Rivers.” Grinning, he marches down the snow-covered streets to the bar to hire a runner to deliver the papers. Tomorrow another train will be “attacked” by a band of Cherokee Indians. They will leave only one survivor, and he will testify in front of the Senate that they are collecting weapons and using them to attack innocent people. “Things must go as planned,” he murmurs.
Chapter 18
Riverton is busy. Craig didn’t stop to enjoy the saloon or the women at the whore house with their powdered breasts and painted faces. He grabs a young boy by the arm when as he walks by.
“What’s your name?”
“Jared, Sir.”
“Where can I buy a horse, Jared?”
“The livery, sir, just two streets over,” he points. Craig presses a coin into his hand and grins at the child’s excitement. “Anything else I can help you with, sir?”
“Yes, I’m looking for information about a Doctor Harris Rivers that might have come through. It will pay well. Can you handle that?”
“Yes, sir. I know where to get information.”
“Excellent, Jared. I’ll be at the livery,” Craig strides off.
Sunset in Riverton is busy. He stomps through the snowmelt determined to get a fresh horse and transfer his gear. An hour later, Jared rushes in, grinning with success.
“What’ve you got for me, Jared?”
“Miss Beverly French is a waitress at the Rollins House Hotel. She said Dr. Rivers was here a week ago.” Jared grins as Craig tosses him two more coins.
“Good work, Jared. Thank you.” Jared runs out, and Craig grins as he smokes. “I think I’ll take a room at the Hotel, brother. Maybe have a bath and dinner.”
Craig enters the Hotel with a glance around. Beautifully appointed with wallpaper and chandeliers, the lobby is a decadent display. He glances down at his snow-covered boots and grins at the young women glancing at him with disdain behind the desk.
“Can I help you, sir?” she asks quickly.
“I sure hope so, Miss?” he asks as he pulls out a handful of twenty-dollar gold coins.
“Beverly French,” she says with a slow smile.
“A lovely name, Miss French,” he lifts a gold coin and steps close to her, glancing down at her plump cleavage teasing him. “I need a room with a view and a hot bath. Think you can help me with that?”
“Absolutely,” Beverly grabs a key and speaks to a porter behind the desk before joining Craig.
“The Rollins House prides ourselves on providing for all of our guests needs. We have a suite with a private bathing room. It is sixteen dollars a night.” Craig tucks two gold coins into her cleavage and grins at her swift inhale.
“Perfect, Miss Beverly French, lead the way.”
“Right this way, Mr.?”
“Call me Craig, Beverly.” Craig saunters behind her, admiring the sway of her lush hips and smiles at his brother, beside him, and murmurs, “Of course, I’m gonna share. Don’t I always.”
“Did you say something?” Beverly asks as she shows him to the steps.
“No, just admiring the view.” Beverly giggles and hurries up the stairs.
“You’re on the second floor, facing the gardens. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the view. It has a private bathing room.” She opens the door to the suite and walks inside to light the lanterns. “Would you like a shave with your bath?”
“Are you offering, Beverly?” He asks removing his hat to drop it on the table.
“I..,” Craig moves into her space and grabs her waist with both hands.
“I’d gladly sit for you while you tend to me, Beverly,” he teases and bends to smell her neck.
Beverly leans her head to the right giving him access to her neck. Craig nibbles on her neck smiling when she shudders. “I’d be glad to help with your bath too, Craig,” s
he moans when he traces a finger down the front of her dress, teasing her nipple.
“I’d be happy to take care of all your needs, Craig, for three gold coins.” She runs a hand down the front of his pants feeling the evidence of his arousal.
Craig growls, and his hands grip her hips tighter. “You will earn those coins, Beverly.”
“I plan on it,” she says stepping back to put up a do not disturb sign on the doorknob and lock it.
“Beverly, it’s been a while since we’ve had a beautiful woman,” Craig says from behind her.
“We?” she turns and finds him directly behind her. He backs her up to the door and reaches for her hand.
“Yes, I’m of two minds, Beverly. One wants you slow, deep and long. The other wants to take you hard, fierce and dirty.” Craig’s eyes flash when she reaches up and slips her gown down her shoulders, revealing her white corset and lush breasts.
“How about now, Craig?” she teases.
“Dirty, first,” he holds up a knife and orders her not to move as he slices the fine material carefully from her body.
Chapter 19
Vanessa slips from the cabin with a small carpet bag given to her from Molly. It contains three changes of clothes, shoes, and cash. She even managed to clean a canteen from the saddlebags, filling it with water.
The crunch of her borrowed boots in the melting snow seems to echo with an eerie sound. After her argument with Harris, she was thankful he didn’t return to the cabin. Vanessa hardened her heart against the hurt in his eyes.
Everything in her screams to curl up in his arms and accept the protection he offers, but she must remain strong for them both. Harris still loves his wife. Dead or not, there is no room for her in his heart. The path she’s on will take her into danger, and he doesn’t need to be a part of it. She already lost one family, “I won’t lose another,” she whispers.
General Barclay believes he’s gotten away with killing her tribe. If she can make it to Washington, she can tell them about the massacre. Slipping silently into the barn she finds a stall open with a saddle mare inside. “Pehnaho,” hello, she whispers and rubs her nose, “I’m going to borrow you.”
“Going somewhere, Kimani,” Harris asks quietly from behind her.
Vanessa whirls around and glares at Harris, leaning against the darkened stall next to hers.
“Kwita!” she fumes.
“That’s not nice,” Harris chuckles, inflaming her anger. “I didn’t know Vanessa could say dammit in Shoshone?”
“Why are you following me?” She snaps, ignoring his taunt and turns to grab the reins.
Harris shoves away from the wall and stalks over to her, snatching the reins from her hand.
“I’ve known you for damn near twenty years. Did you really think I wouldn’t know you’d try this?” His smile fades as he backs her up to the wooden wall inside the stall.
“It’s none of your business…”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growls, gently grabbing her upper arms. “I rode across Wyoming for days terrified I’d come across your dead body, mutilated in the snow and ravaged by wild animals.” Steele blue eyes fill with unvoiced emotions and his voice breaks, “You’re not leaving me behind, ever, again, Kimani.”
“Harris,” tears fill her eyes at the emotion radiating from him, but she must protect her heart.
“Don’t Harris me, I mean it Kimani.”
“V-a-n-e-s-s-a,” she says slowly enunciating every letter.
“We are leaving together, Vanessa.” He is furious that she would try to leave him.
“Harris, I couldn’t sleep, that’s all. You misunderstood.” When she tries to pull away, he walks her backward until she bumps against the stall wall. He releases her arms and cages her in with one arm on either side of her body.
“Liar,” he leans down until his mouth is a fraction away from hers and he hears her breath catch in her throat. “We’re leaving together. Did you not wonder why she’s saddled?”
Her eyes drop to his mouth, “You can’t come with me!”
Harris smiles, “Try and stop me. Mount up, before we wake everyone. My horse is waiting out back.”
Harris pulls back and watches her try to mount before he grips her around her waist and lifts her onto the horse. “Thank you,” she murmurs, “these clothes are strange.”
“You look beautiful in anything. Don’t thank me yet, we have a three-day ride to the next town. I’m not going to risk going back to Riverton.”
“But that’s where Barclay is!” she snaps ignoring his compliment.
Harris guides her horse outside and mounts his before answering her. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“Harris, if I can get to Washington and tell them about the massacre, they could…”
“I thought about it, Kimani, but until we know who else is involved it will be safer to get you somewhere you can heal. You need to trust me.” Harris trots out of the yard, holding onto her reins and doesn’t notice the look on her face.
‘You will trust me little butterfly.” Ahote’s voice echoes in her mind, and she replies.
“The last time I trusted someone, Harris, everyone I loved ended up dead.”
Harris’s halts at her flippant response and pierces her with his steel blue eyes, “Not everyone, Kimani.”
She blanches at his words, realizing how true they are. Tears threaten, but she pushes them back. “Aren’t we going to say goodbye?”
“I already did.” He kicks his mount into a trot.
“Where are we going?” She asks following him away from the ranch.
“I have a plan, but for now we need to ride.” They ride quietly for a few minutes before she snaps at him.
“Is this like the plan you had when you were seventeen?”
“You’re never gonna let it go, are you?” he demands with a fake frown.
Vanessa giggles, “No. You should have listened to me.”
“Probably. That moose only got one good kick in before Dad shot him.”
“You were lucky. I told you that your clothes were noisy and smelly.”
“Smelly! Now that I take offense at. What teen boy doesn’t smell?”
Vanessa laughs, “One your size smells worse than…” Harris groans and nudges her horse with his. “I learned a lot from that hunting trip. Like never take a girl with us.”
“This girl got two bull moose that summer. You’re just jealous; all you got was a youth.”
“Definitely. No man likes his moose to be called small.”
Vanessa slaps a hand over her mouth in shock while Harris laughs out loud at her embarrassment.
“Harris Rivers! I’m telling your Nan.”
“Nan will just agree with me,” he teases.
“I miss her,” her soft laughter makes him grin.
“You will see her soon.” He decides that making her smile and laugh is his new goal. “I love your laugh,” he tells her.
Vanessa glances at him, thinking of his family, “Thank you.”
“Wait till you see Dalton’s triplets! The girls are crawling everywhere now.”
“I’m happy for them.” They fall quiet as they ride.
“Now, will you tell me where we are going,” she teases a few minutes later.
“Like a dog with a bone,” he murmurs. “Sutton drew me a map to Fort Conner. It was abandoned after the treaty was signed. We should be able to rest in one of the cabins on the property before we move on to Fort Steel. It’s a day’s ride past Conner.”
“Harris, I don’t understand. If Ahbe’ signed the treaty, why did they attack? I have so many questions.”
“I know, and we will get some answers, I promise.”
They can only ride for three hours before they are forced to stop. Pain is beating at Kimani, and she needs to walk and get off the horse. Harris aims for the protection of a group of trees. Dismounting, he ties his mount to a branch and moves to help her down.
“Let me
help you,” he offers and reaches for her.
“No, I’m,” she starts to say, but he plucks her from the horse and carries her to a downed tree to sit on. “Harris!” she gasps. “I can walk.”
“I know you can, but I want to help you. We can rest, have some food and go over our plan.” He turns to the horses to water and feed them.
Vanessa watches him with a frown, waiting for him to duck behind some trees she moves to the horses and digs through her saddlebag and smiles with success.
Harris returns to a small fire, and Vanessa on the ground next to it, heating water in a coffee can. The sun glints off her long braid, and a cold wind lifts loose strands.
“Smells amazing.” He sits beside her and happily accepts a cup of coffee and dry tac biscuit. His smile fades when he realizes that she really did plan to leave him behind.
“The fire is small. It should not draw attention. It’s only large enough to heat our water. She glances at Harris waiting for the negative comments. Most of the young women in her tribe considered her a threat, and they let her know it.
“It’s excellent, you will have to show me your technique. I’m always traveling to and from the local communities to care for my patients. Some are too poor to come to me. It requires a lot of saddle time.” He draws his cowboy hat off and runs a hand through his hair. His silver eyes miss nothing, not the way she straightens at his compliment nor the way she scoots away from him.