Sudie was standing in the doorway, her dress plastered to her body, hair soaked and matted. She was shaking, but Michael knew it was not from being wet. He beckoned her inside and she came reluctantly. He went to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, indicating she should sit opposite.
Sudie took a few more hesitant steps, then stopped, thinking that if she stayed close to the door, she could run if he tried to beat her.
"Sudie, I am not going to hurt you," Michael began patiently, "I just want to ask you a few questions about Miss Jacie. You are aware she has gone away, aren't you?"
Sudie mumbled that she was. Right then she wished she were anywhere but here, with Master Blake asking questions she did not want to answer. She had been afraid he would ask sooner or later, but when days passed after Miss Jacie took off and she wasn't sent for, Sudie figured she could rest easy—but not anymore.
"Before she left, you were told to stay with her in case she needed you to do anything. Did you stay with her all the time, sleep in the room with her?"
"I slept outside her door on the floor when she was at her cabin, and when she moved to the big house I slept in that little place where she gets dressed. How come you're askin' me all this?" she suddenly became bold enough to ask.
Michael silently cursed, wishing he dared come right out and ask whether she had ever seen Newton sneaking in, or if Jacie had sneaked out and if they had sent messages back and forth. But Sudie was a child. She might repeat his questions despite his warning her not to. He could not take that chance.
Deciding to try another ploy, he got up and went to kneel before her. With his hands clamped on her little waist, he looked into her wary eyes and explained very gently, "I'm worried about Miss Jacie, Sudie. I don't know where she is and I hoped you could tell me something that might help me find her."
Sudie frowned, confused. She had seen Miss Jacie write Master Blake a letter and leave it on his desk, so why was he worried?
He attempted to trick her by adding, "She's all alone, and that's not good. She needs somebody to look out for her, so I think I'd better go see about her. Don't you agree?"
So that was it. Sudie suddenly brightened. Miss Jacie forgot to tell him where she was going, but she could put his mind at ease, because it wouldn't be wrong for her to tell what she heard Miss Jacie say aloud, because Miss Jacie didn't know she'd heard her, so Sudie hadn't had to promise she wouldn't repeat it. And she certainly didn't have to give away the secret about how Miss Violet wasn't Miss Jacie's real momma, 'cause he hadn't asked her nothing about that.
"Can you think of anything that might help me find her?" he prodded.
"You ain't got nothin' to worry about, sir, 'cause I heard her talkin' to herself and she was sayin' how some man was gonna take her to Texas. But she told me she'd be back in the spring," she added happily.
Sure she will, Michael thought grimly. She had her lover, the necklace. She would never come back, knowing he'd be waiting to wring her neck if she did. He forced a smile. "Well, I can't wait till spring, Sudie. I'm still worried something will happen to her. Now, where in Texas was she going? Did you hear her say?"
Sudie tried to remember the name.
Michael ran a hand across his eyes in frustration. He was wasting his time. It was hopeless. He couldn't just strike out after her. Texas was a big place, and why the hell had they gone there anyway? But he would be damned if he would give up, not when she'd had the nerve to keep his engagement gift. That was a slap in the face he could not tolerate. He was going to find them, even if it meant swallowing his pride by questioning the overseers. One of them might have heard something. Maybe after being fired, Zach could not resist bragging about how he was taking the boss's fiancée with him. According to his mother, the servants were gossiping, so eventually he would find a clue that might point him in the right direction.
"What's a fort, Master Blake?" Sudie asked all of a sudden.
Michael felt hope surging once more. "It's a place where there are soldiers, Sudie. Why? Did Miss Jacie say she was going to a fort in Texas?"
"Uh-huh."
"Think hard." He tried to keep the excitement from his voice so as not to scare her. Already his mind was whirling, making plans. He would hire some men out of Atlanta to go with him. He wanted strangers, paid to do their job and then forget about it.
"I can't remember," she said, disappointed, because she did want to help him. If he was worried about Miss Jacie, then so was she.
His heart was pounding. "Did she say Fort Worth? Or Fort Clark?" Offhand, those were the only two he could think of.
Sudie had been so proud to think she could help Master Blake bring Miss Jacie home, but now she felt bad not to be able to remember the funny name and could only tell him, "It came before."
Michael mustered all his patience, because he wanted to grab her and shake it out of her. "What came before, Sudie?"
"The name of the fort. Feathers."
He ground his teeth together, told himself to keep calm. "Fort Feathers?" He swallowed hard, feeling foolish.
"No. It makes me think of feathers. I'm tryin' to remember."
"Think very hard, Sudie. I'll see that you get a real doll," he added impulsively, noticing the toy made of corn shucks that she clutched to her bosom.
"That would be real nice."
A faint squawking sound made them suddenly look out the front door in time to see a small sparrow caught up in the wind before it was swept helplessly away.
"A bird!" Sudie cried, her memory suddenly jolted. "That's it. I heard her say a bird's fort in Texas. What kind of place is that, Master Blake? Is it far away?"
Bird's Fort. Michael had no idea where it was, just as he had no idea why Zach had taken Jacie there.
But, for sure, he would find both answer and reason.
Sudie watched him as he bolted out into the rain, disappearing into the swirling gray mist, and wondered if he would remember his promise to get her a real doll.
Chapter 12
By the time Jacie and Mehlonga arrived at Fort Smith, Arkansas, at the edge of the eastern border of Indian Territory, Jacie was quite skilled with her knife. It was concealed and strapped just above her right ankle. She could stoop in pretense of lacing her shoe and have the weapon in her hand, ready to strike within seconds. Not only had Mehlonga taught her close combat, but with his guidance she'd become expert at throwing the blade. She could hit dead center any target as far away as thirty feet.
Mehlonga had also endeavored to share all of his knowledge of herbs and potions and was satisfied she could match wits with any shaman or medicine man.
"I will not worry about you," he told her confidently, then added in one of his rare attempts at humor, "only those foolish enough to challenge you."
At a trading post along the way, they had met a Cherokee girl who was married to the owner. Mehlonga persuaded her to sell Jacie one of her own skin dresses, telling Jacie how the deer hide would be much more comfortable than her muslin dress. The girl also included a beaded headband, to keep Jacie's long hair out of her face.
Jacie quickly discovered Mehlonga was right about the native clothes. They were more suitable for long hours of riding, and by then she had learned it made no difference whether those they passed thought they were Indian. But before they arrived at Fort Smith she changed, fearing the soldiers might not be so ready to help her in her quest to reach Texas. With her skin bronzed by long hours riding in the sun, she could easily be mistaken for an Indian.
When finally they reached the fort, Jacie found it difficult to say good-bye to the man who had become so dear to her. "But we must part," Mehlonga told her solemnly. "We have separate paths to follow in this life."
She was close to tears. "I won't ever see you again, will I?"
"In another world. Till then, go in peace." He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes as he said huskily, "Be still and listen, my child, so that when your heart speaks, you will hear it."
> Mehlonga had sought and found a young Cherokee working at the post as a scout. His name was Tehlwah, and when Mehlonga asked him to take Jacie to Bird's Fort, he was reluctant but agreed out of respect for the shaman.
There was much trouble in that area, Tehlwah said. They would have to ride hard and fast, keeping out of sight as much as possible, because the Comanche were on the warpath. Jacie assured him she could keep up.
As Tehlwah predicted, the journey was arduous. They traded horses along the way so they could continue without having to pause for them to rest. And though Jacie was exhausted, she dared not ask to stop but was always grateful when Tehlwah did so. But they slept only a few hours at night, because he knew the way even in the dark and wanted to reach their destination quickly so he could retreat from the dreaded Comanche country.
She kept a wary eye as they rode through the rolling and rugged land, by mesquite groves that crowded spiny cactus. The weather was warm, even though back home in Georgia it would be fall, cool and crisp.
Home.
She felt the lump in her throat whenever she thought about the life she had left behind. Despite having an escort she was lonely and afraid.
She was relieved when one evening near sunset they reached the Trinity River. Tehlwah pointed upriver and said, "The fort is that way. Perhaps a half day's ride. We sleep now."
He gave her a few strips of beef jerky and she ate ravenously. They had been riding steadily for nearly a week, and jerky, fruit, and nuts had been their diet, and not much of it. Tehlwah had refused to make a fire for cooking small game they could have caught, explaining that smoke would draw the enemy right to them. So Jacie would eat what she was given, then spread her big blanket on the ground and fall asleep at once, despite the hungry rumblings of her stomach.
But that night by the Trinity River, Jacie was so hungry she felt gnawing pains. She commanded herself not to think about food. The trip was almost over. The first thing she planned to do when she got to the fort was eat the biggest meal she could get, because the past few days she'd felt herself growing weaker.
When she slept she dreamed about food. Visions of tasty meals at Violet's table blended into memories of the scrumptious summer barbecues on the sprawling lawns of Red Oakes. She dreamed she was feasting on crispy fried chicken and thick slices of ham and sampling huge helpings of vegetables fresh from the garden—snap beans, butter beans, peas, and tangy sliced tomatoes. Chunks of crispy golden corn bread spilled from baskets, and everywhere there were cakes and pies of every kind.
But it was the hickory pits that made her mouth water, and the smell of the slowly roasting pigs. She could actually feel the heat rising from the glowing embers, blistering her face. So hot. But should it be so hot? She had always heard barbecuing had to be done slowly, so the meat would be done through, tender and...
She awoke with a start.
It was not the heat from her delicious dream of barbecue that scorched her face; it was the sun, the midmorning sun, blazing down mercilessly to heat her skin.
Scrambling to her feet, she looked about wildly for Tehlwah but knew instinctively she would not find him. Always they started out while it was still dark. The sun being so high in the sky could mean only one thing—he had abandoned her.
Her first thought was that he might have stolen her horse, but the mare was right where she had left her. Tehlwah had brought her within a few hours' ride of the fort and then for whatever reason had decided not to go farther. He would not steal from the charge of a shaman of his people. So she did not bother to examine the small blanket where her treasures were hidden.
She resolved there was nothing to be done but make it the rest of the way on her own. After a quick bath in the river, she put on her one good dress, brushed her hair till it was dry and shiny, and then set out, following along the banks of the Trinity.
Rounding a bend at midday, she breathed a sigh of relief to finally see the fort just ahead and urged the horse into a gallop, eager to reach her destination at last.
She waved heartily at the sentry who appeared at the gate. He was wearing a uniform like the ones she had seen back at Fort Smith—blue pants with yellow stripes down the sides tucked into knee-high black leather boots. His shirt was a darker shade of blue, and a yellow bandanna was tied around his neck. The rim of his felt hat shaded his face, but she could still see his astonished expression and how his mustache twitched as his mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of her.
The sentry had a difficult time concentrating on what Jacie was saying. All he could focus on was the fact that here was a beautiful young woman where women were a scarcity. Her excited babbling about coming all the way from Georgia to find her mother was lost on him as his gaze swept her comely figure.
A real treasure to be sure, he was thinking, snapping back to harsh reality as a soldier of higher rank appeared to push him aside.
After repeating her story to several different soldiers Jacie was ushered across the parade ground and up some steps and into the office of the post commander.
"Actually, I am not the regular post commander," Captain James Logan explained. "But the colonel, unfortunately, is suffering from the gout and has taken to his bed, putting me in charge for the time being. So what can I do for you, Miss Calhoun?" Like every other man at the fort who had seen her, he could not help staring in fascination.
Again Jacie repeated her story, only to realize the man was not listening to a word she was saying as he stared at her with an odd sheen to his eyes and a silly grin on his face. "What is wrong with everyone around here?" she demanded irritably. "I'm trying to tell you why I came all the way out here and you act as if you don't hear me. I came all this way to find my mother, and I need your help. Don't you believe me?" She slammed her hands down on the desk in exasperation.
Captain Logan licked his lips unconsciously and blurted, "Miss Calhoun, I presume you aren't married. Otherwise you wouldn't be traveling alone in such dangerous territory. So would you—" He drew a sharp breath, held it, then plunged ahead. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Jacie reeled as though he had slapped her and could only stutter, "What—what on earth do you mean? Have you lost your mind?"
"No. Quite the contrary, Miss Calhoun, I'm thinking very clearly by asking you before someone else does. In case you didn't know it, unmarried women are scarcer than hen's teeth in these parts. I'm surprised you haven't already had a proposal between the gate and here. Most women are taken within an hour of arriving at a post, and even the homeliest are married in less than two weeks.
"And you, Miss Calhoun," he added with an ardent smile, "could never be considered homely."
She began to squirm uncomfortably in her chair. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of. I was at Fort Smith last week and I assure you I received no proposals, for heaven's sake."
"Fort Smith has no shortage of women, I hear. But we do, and I repeat, I'd be honored if you would allow me to court you."
He rose and hurried around his desk intending to drop to his knee before her in formal proposal, but Jacie quickly stood and snatched her hands away as he reached for them. "Captain Logan," she said crisply, "I will thank you to restrain yourself. I have no intentions of marrying you or any other man on this post. I have a fiancé waiting for me back in Georgia."
To cover his feeling of humiliation at her blunt refusal, he sneered and said, "Well, I would like to know what kind of man would allow his fiancée to travel alone. And why didn't he come with you to aid you in your search?"
"I don't want to talk about my fiancé," she replied, ire rising. "Now, are you going to help me find my mother or not?"
He returned to his chair, realizing she was not the sort to be pushed. But he had all the time in the world, because he was not about to let her go. The best thing to do, he reasoned, was stall while pretending sympathy and willingness to assist her. "Forgive me," he said, mustering a tone of sincerity. "Suppose you give me all the details conce
rning your mother and I'll see what the army can do for you."
Jacie sat down and started over. She was gratified to see he was all business now, making notes of everything she said.
When she was finished, he looked at her in wonder. "You realize, of course, that we have no proof that the woman who ran away from here is your mother."
"You can ask questions. Surely there's someone around who would remember."
"It's possible, but not likely. A story like that would be passed along, and I've never heard it."
"Do you know of any soldiers who might have been stationed here at that time?"
He shook his head. "None of them have been here over two years at the most, including the colonel. But I'll ask around."
"And so will I." She started to rise, but he motioned for her to remain seated. She did so, frowning in anticipation of his repeating his proposal.
"Let me tell you something about our life here, Miss Calhoun. It's stark, and we hunger for any reason to have a social. Not many of the men who are married have brought their wives out here. In fact, there are only ten wives, but they are constantly trying to find ways to break the monotony for all of us. They put on plays and musicals, charade parties, a dance now and then." With a chuckle, he added, "I've even seen my soldiers so desperate for recreation that they dance with each other."
"Well, what does all that have to do with me, Captain?" Jacie asked suspiciously.
"Word spreads quickly, and I'm sure even as we speak, the wives are planning a ball in honor of your arrival. So what I want you to do is concentrate on that and forget about your mother for the time being. Let me make some inquiries. It will take some time, but I can assure you I'll do anything I can to help you find her. How's that?"
"That would be fine," Jacie responded woodenly, "except that the only clothes I have with me are this bedraggled outfit I'm wearing and a buckskin dress. I hardly think your men would want to dance with an Indian."
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