Reckless Desire

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Reckless Desire Page 14

by Madeline Baker


  The crack of Mary's hand striking Frank across the face was as loud and clear as a pistol shot. "Don't judge my morals by your own," Mary said angrily. "I have never been unfaithful to you."

  "Never?" Frank questioned skeptically.

  "Never."

  "I guess he's never held you or kissed you, then," Frank scoffed.

  Mary's silence was all the answer Frank needed.

  "I guess we have nothing more to say to each other," Frank remarked bitterly.

  "Don't you even want to see your daughter, Frank?" Mary asked quietly.

  "No."

  "That's one of the reasons I left you," Mary said sadly. "You don't love Katherine, and you don't love me. I wonder if you ever did."

  "Good-bye, Mary," Frank said curtly.

  "What about the divorce?"

  "Forget it. I'm not making it easy for you, my dear wife. I swallowed my pride to come here and ask you to come home. I want you back, and I'm willing to wait until you're ready."

  "I'll never come back," Mary said defiantly.

  "And you'll never be free to marry that redskin, either," Frank said triumphantly.

  I heard the door slam as Frank left the house. I waited a minute, and then I went into the parlor. Mary was standing near the fireplace, staring at the door. Two large tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  "Mary?"

  "Oh, nahkoa," she cried, and dissolved into tears.

  I put my arms around her and held her as she cried. Few things in life could be so bitter or as painful as a marriage gone wrong.

  "Oh, nahkoa," Mary sobbed brokenly. "What am I going to do?"

  "I don't know, dear," I answered. "Are you sure you don't want to go back to Frank and try to work it out?"

  "He never even said he loved me, or missed me. He couldn't even take a minute to see his own daughter. How can you expect me to go back to him?"

  "You're his wife, Mary, remember? For better or worse, until death do you part."

  "I know, but I just can't go back to him. You have no idea what it was like."

  "I can guess." I patted Mary's shoulder lovingly. "This is a decision you must make on your own. I can't tell you what to do. I guess you'll just have to follow your heart. But, Mary, don't forget you have a daughter to consider as well. Whatever you decide will affect Katherine, too. I know you're hurt and unhappy just now, but don't do something in haste that you'll regret later."

  "You mean Cloud Walker."

  "Yes. I know he cares for you, and you seem to care for him, but be very sure of your feelings before you go too far to turn back."

  Mary smiled at me through her tears. "Is that the voice of experience speaking?" she asked, sniffling.

  "Yes. Now go dry your eyes and wash your face. Crying never solved anything."

  19

  We didn't know just how bitter and vengeful Frank Smythe could be until a few days later. When we heard he had left Bear Valley, we all breathed a sigh of relief, little dreaming that he was not quite through with us yet.

  On the Friday afternoon after Frank left Bear Valley, Hawk and Cloud Walker rode into town to pick up a wheel Hawk had left at the blacksmith for repairs. They stopped for a beer before beginning the journey back home, paying little attention to the four men who followed them out of town.

  Hawk and Cloud Walker were on a long deserted stretch of road when the four men overtook them. Too late, Hawk reached for the rifle under the front seat of the wagon.

  ''I wouldn't," warned one of the men, and Hawk raised his hands above his head as the four men drew their guns.

  "What do you want?" Hawk asked, glancing at the faces of the four men. "We do not have any cash, if that is what you are looking for."

  "It isn't," the leader said. "There's a ravine about a mile south of here. You know the one I mean? Head that way. And don't try anything funny."

  Hawk nodded, his stomach in knots as he drove the team toward the ravine. He glanced at Cloud Walker, who shrugged perplexedly. If the men didn't want money, what did they want?

  At the ravine, Hawk reined the horses to a halt and set the brake, then sat there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting to see what would happen next.

  "Get down," the leader of the group ordered curtly. "Wes, tie that one up and stuff a gag in his mouth. Marv, you and Cliff hang onto the other one."

  Hawk thought briefly of trying to make a break for it as the man called Wes walked purposefully toward him, but there seemed little point in it. There was no way he could outrun a bullet. He remained passive as his hands were tied tightly behind his back and a kerchief was jammed into his mouth.

  Cloud Walker struggled briefly as Marv and Cliff grabbed his arms and dragged him from the wagon. A sudden premonition told him they were not interested in Hawk at all, and his mouth went dry as he watched the leader dismount and stride toward him.

  "Hurry it up, Castrell," the man called Marv said impatiently. "Somebody's liable to come along."

  "Shut up," Castrell rebuked mildly. He looked at Cloud Walker, his yellow eyes thoughtful. "There's nothing personal in this," he told the young man as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves. "I'm just doing a job I was paid to do, that's all. Don't come looking for me when it's over, 'cause I'll be long gone outa the territory by the time you heal up. And if you should happen to find me, I'll have to kill you."

  A cold sliver of fear wrapped around Cloud Walker's insides as Castrell flexed his fingers. "What is it you have been paid to do?"

  "Just rough you up a little, that's all."

  "Who has paid you to do such a thing?"

  Castrell shook his head. "I didn't ask the gent's name and he didn't give it. I just took his money."

  Cloud Walker's body went tense all over as Castrell drew back his fist. In the split second before the first blow landed, he wondered if Frank Smythe was the man who had paid Castrell.

  Cloud Walker sucked in his breath when he saw the first blow coming. It landed in his midsection, driving the breath from his body, and was quickly followed by another and another. The two men holding Cloud Walker strengthened their grasp on his arms as he began to struggle. Castrell was grinning as he drove his fist into Cloud Walker's face. Blood gushed from the Indian's mouth as his lower lip split. The next blow sliced open his cheek.

  Cloud Walker stared into Castrell's face, willing himself to stay silent as the man struck him again and again, the blows coming steadily, methodically. It was hard to breathe now, hard to think. There was nothing in the world but pain, a bright red haze of pain that gradually dulled into one long, steady ache. His head lolled forward and his legs grew weak. Time lost all meaning and it seemed as though he had been trapped between the two white men forever while Castrell's fists meted out blow after blow.

  A vague thought of death entered his mind and he thought he might welcome it if it would bring relief from the jarring pain that exploded through his tortured flesh each time Castrell's fist smacked into him.

  Hawk watched helplessly as the man called Castrell methodically dealt blow after blow to Cloud Walker's face and midsection. The man was good at his job, Hawk observed ruefully. His punches were hard, solid, and precise. There was a sharp crack as Castrell broke one of Cloud Walker's ribs.

  The sound roused Hawk's anger, and each blow added fuel to the fire. Cloud Walker was nearly unconscious now, and Hawk knew he would have collapsed but for the two men holding him erect.

  Rage suffused Hawk as he watched Castrell continue to strike Cloud Walker. Suddenly, with a low growl, he hurled himself at Castrell, driving his shoulder into the man's back and knocking him off his feet.

  Castrell landed hard, rolled over once, and gained his feet. "Come on, Injun," he called, motioning for Hawk to come toward him.

  Anger overrode good sense as Hawk hurled himself at Castrell a second time, his right foot lashing out at Castrell's side. Castrell sidestepped easily, his fist striking Hawk across the face, and as Hawk sprawled in the dirt, Castrell kicked
him in the back, driving the breath from Hawk's body.

  "Let's go," Castrell said to his companions, and the four men mounted their horses and rode away without looking back.

  Hawk sat up. For a moment, he did not move, just sat there until the pain in his back receded. Blood was trickling from the corner of his left eye. He glanced at Cloud Walker and saw that he was unconscious.

  Hawk tried to free his hands, but the knot had been tied by an expert and the rope refused to give.

  He glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, and he weighed the wisdom of walking home for help, and decided against it. There were still wolves and coyotes in this part of Bear Valley, and though they rarely attacked a man, Cloud Walker would be defenseless against them in case of an attack.

  Cloud Walker groaned softly as awareness returned. There was the taste of blood in his mouth. His nose was broken, and when he tried to sit up, he realized that a couple of ribs were broken as well. Each movement sent waves of pain shooting through him, and it was with a great deal of effort that he managed to untie Hawk's hands.

  Removing the gag from his mouth, Hawk stood up. "Do not move," he told Cloud Walker. "I will get the wagon."

  Cloud Walker nodded, and then passed out again.

  I gazed at Cloud Walker, my stomach churning as Hawk placed him on Mary's bed.

  "What happened?" I asked, glancing at the nasty cut near Hawk's left eye.

  "Four men stopped us on our way from town," Hawk answered. "They tied me up, and then one of them beat Cloud Walker until he was unconscious. When I tried to interfere, the man hit me." Hawk touched the cut near his eye. "Do not worry about me. This is nothing."

  "Why did they stop you? Why would they attack Cloud Walker?"

  Hawk shook his head. "They said someone had paid them to do it. They claimed they did not know the man's name."

  "Did you recognize any of the men?"

  "No."

  "There's something you're not telling me."

  "I think Frank Smythe put them up to it."

  "Frank!" I exclaimed in surprise. "Surely he wouldn't stoop to anything so low."

  Hawk shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

  "There's no time to discuss it now. Does Mary know about this?"

  "Not yet."

  We heard Mary enter the house just then. She was laughing as she carried Katherine into the room. She came to an abrupt halt, the laughter dying on her lips, when she saw Cloud Walker lying on her bed, unconscious and bloody. The color drained from her face as she stared at him.

  And then she lifted tormented eyes to my face. "He's not"

  "No," I said quickly. "Just badly hurt. I'll need your help."

  Mary nodded woodenly. "Hawk, take Katherine out of here, will you, please?"

  With a nod, Hawk took Katherine. "I am going to get Vickie," he said. "I will take Katherine with me."

  For the next half hour, Mary and I focused all our attention on Cloud Walker. We washed the blood from his face, placed a cool cloth over his eyes, which were discolored and swollen. There was a large cut across his left cheek, his lower lip was split, his nose was broken. Removing his shirt, I saw that his torso was also badly bruised. He groaned when I touched his left side, and I guessed he had a couple of broken ribs.

  "Who is it?" he rasped, struggling to sit up.

  "It's me, Hannah," I said. "Lie still while I bandage your ribs."

  "Where am I?" Cloud Walker asked.

  "Home," Mary answered, taking his hand in hers.

  "You should not be here, Mary," Cloud Walker said hoarsely. "I do not want you to see me like this."

  "Don't be silly," Mary retorted, fighting back her tears. "I don't intend to leave your side until you're well again."

  "Mary . . ."

  "Save your breath," she said firmly. "I'm not leaving."

  When we had done all we could, I sent Mary out of the room and then, in spite of Cloud Walker's vehement protests, I gave him a sponge bath and tucked him, naked but clean, into Mary's bed. Moments later he was asleep.

  Hawk told his story to Shadow and Mary later that evening. "They said not to try to follow them, that they were leaving the territory," Hawk concluded, his dark eyes filled with anger. "They said it was nothing personal, just a job."

  "You're not going after them, are you?" Vickie asked anxiously. "It will only cause more trouble."

  "You do not expect me to let them get away with it, do you?" Hawk exclaimed. He looked at his father for help. "We are going after them, are we not?"

  "I think it is Frank Smythe we should go after," Shadow replied quietly.

  Mary stared at her father. "Frank? What has he got to do with this?"

  "Hawk thinks Frank put those men up to it," I explained. "And your father agrees."

  "Is that what you think, too?"

  "I don't know. I don't like to think that Frank would do such a despicable thing, but he was mighty jealous when he left here. Jealousy can make a man do something he wouldn't ordinarily do."

  "When do you want to leave?" Hawk asked Shadow.

  "First light."

  "No, Hawk!" Victoria cried, grabbing hold of his arm. "Please don't go. It will only cause more trouble."

  "Vickie's right," Mary agreed. "Your going after Frank won't solve anything."

  "We cannot let him get away with it," Hawk retorted angrily.

  "Mary's right," I said. "What good will it do for the two of you to go all the way to Chicago to get Frank? And suppose you beat Frank up. What then? He'll come back here to get even with you and it will never end. Just let it go."

  "No," Hawk said, and I knew he was spoiling for a fight. Any fight.

  I looked to Shadow for help. "Please don't go. I haven't asked you for much, but I'm asking now. Let it end here before someone gets killed."

  "Very well," Shadow said. "We will not go after Frank."

  Hawk stood up, his face dark with anger. "Always the white man wins!" he cried bitterly, and stalked out of the house.

  "I'm sorry," Victoria apologized. "Come along, Jason, Jacob, it's time to go home."

  "Don't blame him for being angry, Vickie," I said as I walked her to the door. "You can't blame him for being bitter."

  "I know," she said sadly. "Good night, Hannah."

  While Shadow went out to check the stock, Mary and I went to look in on Cloud Walker. Tears filled Mary's eyes as she took Cloud Walker's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Cloud Walker's face was a swollen mass of cuts and bruises. I knew that each breath was causing him considerable pain.

  "Can I get you anything?" Mary asked.

  "Water," Cloud Walker rasped.

  Mary poured him a drink from the carafe on her bedside table, lifted his head while he swallowed thirstily.

  "I'll leave you two alone," I said.

  "No, nahkoa," Mary said. "Don't go. I . . . Cloud Walker, I . . ." Mary glanced at me, her eyes pleading for help.

  I knew intuitively what Mary wanted to say. She wanted to tell Cloud Walker that they shouldn't see each other any more except in the most casual way. But she couldn't find the words.

  "Not now, Mary," I admonished. "Good night, Cloud Walker. Try to get some sleep."

  "Yes, good night," Mary added quickly, and followed me out of the room.

  In the parlor, Mary sat down on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. "Why did you stop me?"

  "Your timing's all wrong," I said, sitting down beside her. "You'll only upset him if you tell him now."

  "I can't see him anymore," Mary lamented. "What if Frank comes back?"

  "You can't live in fear of that," I said. "At any rate, I don't think Frank Smythe will dare show his face in Bear Valley ever again."

  "Oh, nahkoa," Mary wailed. "He might have been killed."

  "But he wasn't. Even Frank wouldn't go that far. Now, get hold of yourself, Mary. Go wash your face and look after your daughter. Cloud Walker will be all right."

  I smiled at Katherine, who had fallen asleep on the rug in front
of the fireplace. "Why don't you and Katherine sleep in our room? Your father and I can sleep in the lodge."

  "I don't want to put you out of your bed," Mary protested.

  "It's all right. See you in the morning."

  Wrapping a shawl around my shoulders, I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. Shadow was standing in the yard, his expression grim.

  "We're going to sleep in the lodge until Cloud Walker is better," I said. "Do you mind?"

  "No."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I do not think Hawk will forget what happened. I think he will try to follow those men."

  "What makes you think that?"

  Shadow grinned ruefully. "Because it is what I would have done twenty years ago."

  I gazed into the darkness, my heart heavy within my breast because I knew that Shadow was right. I also knew that Shadow would not let Hawk go after those men alone.

  "When are you leaving?"

  "At first light," Shadow said, putting his arm around my shoulders. "Come, let us go to bed. We have not shared a lodge in a long time."

  20

  Mary sat at the window staring out into the darkness. She never should have come home, she thought unhappily. It was all her fault that Cloud Walker had been hurt. If she had stayed in Chicago with Frank, none of this would have happened.

  Rising, she moved to her parents' bed and gazed down at her daughter. Katherine was sleeping peacefully, her thumb in her mouth.

  With a sigh, Mary stepped out of the bedroom. Perhaps a cup of warm milk would help her sleep. She paused at the door of her room, frowning. Had she heard a groan? Concerned, she put her hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly.

  ''Who's there?" Cloud Walker's voice was low and edged with pain.

  "It's me. Can I get you anything?"

  "Water."

  Mary moved quickly to his bedside and poured him a glass of water. Gently she lifted his head while he drank.

  "Are you all right?" Mary asked. "Are you in much pain?"

  "I am better, now that you are here."

 

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