As Reis mounted the steps wondering how to explain his mercurial moods, he knew the only way to show his love and trust was to tell her everything. He had never been this edgy or indecisive. But he had never had someone more precious than life to fret over, to protect. Amanda was right; if he died while carrying out this mission, she wouldn't even know why she had lost him. No one would even know to contact her with such grim news! He sighed heavily, thinking how glad he was that Miranda and Lucas were safe and happy ...
It didn't take long for Lucas to realize that wild Yankton wasn't the place for him and Miranda, and neither was their second stop, Fort Randall. They would continue toward Pierre on the Martha Lane tomorrow morning.
With two railroads joining in Yankton soon, the town was overflowing with workmen, "ladies of pleasure," and a variety of opportunists. Two mills were being built near town: a flour mill and a lumber mill. A packing plant and foundry were under discussion for imminent construction. Several rowdy saloons were ready for use, with numerous others under construction or planning. Headquarters for freight companies and stagelines had blossomed in and around Yankton. The town was full of crime and violence and Lucas felt they should move on, as the area offered nothing but trouble.
But their brief stay at Fort Randall provided some grim and interesting insights. Miranda and Lucas were both surprised by the boredom and hardships which filled the average soldier's life. They had been led to believe the soldiers and settlers in this area led exciting, profitable, and pleasant lives. But the colorful adventures printed in newspapers and books were fantasies or fictionalized accounts.
Lucas was fascinated by all he saw and learned, and made careful notes for future stories or articles. He questioned almost everyone he met about three men in particular. His pouch grew fat with information, facts and figures which he was only too eager to share with Miranda.
True, the Army did protect the trails and railroads, the miners and settlers, the cattlemen and sheepherders, and the traders. The Army did do surveys for railroad lines and telegraph lines or protect the crews which carried out such necessary jobs. The Army did battle "hostiles," as the Indians were labeled. Sometimes, the Army did the work for companies, such as building roads or clearing land. Yet, the majority of time was spent with arduous chores in or around the fort.
One thing which Miranda found intriguing was the Army's contradictory views on marriage amongst its enlisted men. The men were lonely and miserable; yet families were discouraged. The men's carnal needs were met in several ways. At some forts, whores were permitted to live and ply their trades. At others, women who served as cooks and laundresses also served as whores for the men who could afford such luxuries. At still others, wagons arrived every few weeks with prostitutes, games, and whiskey for sale; at such times, some men spent their entire month's wages in one day. Sadly, in some cases, widows or daughters were forced into such professions when left alone and penniless. Many soldiers used Indian women from the nearby reservations to sate their lusts. At those forts which existed near settlements, saloons offered the soldiers their three desires: drink, women, and gambling.
It seemed to Miranda that a happily married man would make a better soldier. Clearly the US Army disagreed. But those men who were fortunate enough to have wives had private homes and relief from boredom and sacrifice; they were in better health and were better fed. Miranda quickly learned that a female, especially a pretty one, was flooded with proposals of all kinds. After a few days in this territory, she was beginning to wonder if she should pretend to be Lucas's wife rather than his sister to dissuade so many men from pursuing her, including the men on the ship!
Before leaving on the steamer, Lucas sent Amanda another telegram, revealing their next destination. He asked her to contact him at Pierre, for he intended to be there for quite some time and needed to hear how she was. To continue their charade, he told Amanda to pass along his greetings to Miranda in Charleston. He stated he would write a lengthy letter from Pierre to relate his adventures there.
Lucas gradually uncovered facts which deeply distressed him. General William T. Sherman, who had terrorized and destroyed much of the South and boasted loudly of his atrocities, was the commanding general of the Army and was in charge of this territory. Lucas discovered he was operating out of Fort Richardson in Texas. President Grant had given Division of Missouri command to Philip Sheridan, who was working the middle area near Fort Dodge in Kansas.
The Division of Missouri was an immense tract, an area which included the Dakota Territory, stretching from Canada to the coast of Texas and from the Rockies to the Mississippi River, and comprising over a million frontier miles, including sacred and hunting grounds of nearly one hundred tribes. Several tribes which were causing major problems for the Army were the Sioux, Cheyenne, Apache, Comanche, and Kiowas-all known for fiercely defending their homes, lands, and people.
Added to those powerful forces was George Custer, known to have executed seven Rebels during the Civil War without a trial, and now assigned to the Seventh Cavalry at Fort Lincoln. During the Civil War, Custer had risen to the rank of general; here in the Cavalry, he was ranked a lieutenant colonel. But from all Lucas had heard, Custer was rapidly working on improving his rank to general once more. As Sheridan told Custer, "Kill or hang all warriors." This statement appeared to epitomize the thoughts and actions of all three men. Lucas had learned so much about Indians from Marie Law rence, and it alarmed him to realize the Army's strategy was the annihilation of all Indians, male and female, old and young, especially the awesome and influential Sioux, Marie's family and people, and Miranda's relatives.
After mutually devastating the South during the war, all three leaders were now here trying to do the same with the Indian in the West. No success could be had until they realized this terrain, these battles, and this enemy were vastly dissimilar to those of the Civil War. Lucas's blood raced with elation at the thought of not only exposing the vile war deeds of these three men, but of revealing their grisly actions here in the West. Surely the combined revelations would be detrimental to their careers.
As the steamer made its way toward Pierre, Lucas spent as much time as possible with the two soldiers aboard who had been transferred from Sherman's troop to Custer's. Having a weakness for whiskey and suffering from boredom, the two men accepted the drinks purchased by Lucas, in exchange for colorful tales and intriguing facts about both men and their campaigns. Led to believe Lucas Reardon was a famous writer, the men boasted of exploits in which they had participated, hoping to become as well known as Custer and Sherman.
A wily reporter, Lucas found it easy to extract information from these men. His only problem was in separating fact from fiction. Lucas's genial personality and boyish mien aided his quest for truth. Lucas learned about the notorious "Indian Ring" of corruption and fraud. He discovered that Sherman was on the rampage once more, now that Satanta of the fierce Kiowa Indians had been released from prison. He listened to grisly tales of massacres which sickened, repulsed, and saddened him.
Both soldiers had shown a strong interest in Miranda, and Lucas cautioned her to watch her step around them. But she had to walk a fine line between silencing them with haughty rejection and inspiring a steady flow of confessions with cordial behavior. The day before they were to join their new troop, the two soldiers ceased their heavy drinking. It was time to sober up minds and clean up appearances. But clearer heads offered trouble for Lucas and Miranda. When the two soldiers began to compare mental notes on the cunning pair, they realized the couple had been asking too many questions about their leaders and exploits. Suddenly they feared Lucas might be a government agent investigating war crimes.
Ignorant of the danger they faced, Lucas went over his impending strategy with Miranda. One of those soldiers told me our old friend, Thomas Baylor from Virginia, is assigned to Sherman. If we can catch up to him before going home, with luck Tom can get me a personal interview with the beast."
"And what if She
rman guesses what you're trying to pull?" she speculated fearfully, imagining what that man alone could do to her cousin, not daring to envision all three villains at his back.
He won't; I'll be careful. With the egos of those three, they'll think I'm glorifying their famous names. Or should I say infamous. Besides, the way things are going out here, the settlers are starting to hate the soldiers more than the Indians. I heard a group of them bragging at Fort Randall about foraging on settlers between pay periods. They made it sound like a common practice for the entire territory."
"What's our next stop?" she inquired anxiously.
"After we load fuel once more, we're supposed to halt at the Lower Brule Reservation to drop off supplies-Indian annuities they called them. We'll only be there a few hours, then head on to Pierre. Good thing we're staying there because that's the termination point for this steamer. The pilot said we could either take another steamer or go north by stage. From the hints I've been gathering, Pierre sounds like a good place to linger," he stated, piquing her curiosity.
"Why?" she quickly probed, eyes bright and wide.
"You'll see," he teased mysteriously, playfully. "You get your letter finished to Mandy and we'll mail it in Pierre. I surely hope we have word waiting for us from her and Reis. It surely would help my mood knowing Weber had been put away for keeps."
"Me too," she concurred.
When the steamer halted its engine, Lucas wondered why Miranda was so eager to go for a walk. She looked as excited as a child on a birthday. She was even more elated when she learned there was no "woodhawk" here and the crew must cut wood-it would be a lengthy stop.
Once ashore, the two soldiers joined them for a talk and stroll, vexing Miranda for more than one reason. She didn't like these two males or trust them. She preferred to be alone or with Lucas. Still, she couldn't keep sneaking off without arousing suspicion. She was anxious to learn if the handsome warrior was still trailing her. And she didn't want to spend time with the two soldiers who made her uneasy, especially today. She sensed something different in their moods, their expressions, their tones.
Anson Miller and Jim Rhodes chatted with Lucas for five or ten minutes, but Miranda paid little attention. A provocative word here and there brought her to alertness. She listened as Jim told Lucas about an old reservation within walking distance. Since Lucas and Miranda had shown such an interest in the Indians, Jim suggested they walk there, hinting they might find arrowheads or such for souvenirs.
Anson remarked, "Surely you've heard of Spotted Tail, the famous Sioux chief? They even named the agency after him, Spotted Tail-Whetstone. The old chief went to Washington in '70 to see Grant himself. Told him the area was trouble 'cause of whiskey traders. Had to have somebody to blame when his warriors got falling-down drunk," he stated between chuckles. "Old Spotted Tail was powerful and Grant didn't want him on the warpath again, so he let them move near White River close to them sacred Black Hills. Didja know Spotted Tail's sister is Crazy Horse's mother? You do know who Crazy Horse is?" he teased.
Before Lucas or Miranda could reply either way, Jim quickly inserted, "They probably don't want to see no remains of savages-you know there's still bones in some of them trees from that crazy burial practice afore it was outlawed-just old fires and raggedy teepees."
"Luke here's a writer, Jim; he needs to see things like that. Don't you, Luke?" Anson argued as they set their trap for an unsuspecting Luke and Miranda.
"Well, I'm sure Miss Miranda don't care to gaze upon such ugly sights," Jim remarked. He grinned and muttered, "'Course she does seem the brave, adventurous type. You got a good helper, Luke."
Lucas glanced at Miranda and asked, "You want to see it?"
Miranda didn't know which she wanted to see more, the old campsite or ... Suppose this was that mysterious warrior's old campground; he had spoken Sioux, and the soldier had stated that Spotted Tail was Sioux. Suppose he had returned to his old territory or ancestral grounds for a special reason. She mentally chided herself for centering her plans around a man who might be days away from here. If the warrior wanted to see her again, he would find a way, as he had twice before. She smiled amiably and nodded trustingly, taking Lucas's hand to walk near him.
Anson and Jim talked freely as they guided the two out of earshot of the steamer. Finally, Lucas asked. "This seems a mite far, Jim. Maybe we should head back. We don't want to get lost."
Anson stopped and informed them, "Let me check the marker back there. Maybe we took a wrong path. We should be there by now." He walked past them, then suddenly turned and struck Lucas on the head with its pistol butt, rendering him unconscious.
Miranda screamed, dropping to her knees to check on her cousin. Lucas was out cold and blood was wetting his hair. Alarmed and stunned, her head jerked upward as she shrieked, "Why did you do that?"
Anson leaned over and seized her around the waist. He flung her to the grass and straddled her. He stated ominously, "So I could do this," then kissed her.
Miranda struggled in his tight grasp as his slobbery lips refused to leave hers. From above their tangled bodies, she could hear Jim's laughter and jests, encouraging Anson to hurry and to give him a turn with her. As Jim verbally planned his coming actions ahead, she cringed in terror as she comprehended their plan-rapel
Miranda knew it was useless to -plead, and she didn't. It would only be amusing to them. Considering the distance they had walked, she also knew it was futile to yell for help. Lucas was injured, and she had no weapon. She was at their mercy. If only she were standing, she could use the Chinese defense movements taught to her. She thrashed wildly on the ground, but Anson was strong and heavy. When she tried to claw at his face, he told Jim to tie her wrists.
The other soldier delighted in tearing a strip from her dress then binding her hands tightly. You want me to tie her feet?" Jim asked when she continued to kick at Anson.
"Hell, nol" Anson shrieked. "How would I get twixt her legs, fool? You just hold her still while I shuck these pants."
With Anson standing between her parted thighs, Jim straddled Miranda's middle. Anson wiggled his pants down to his boots. Jim laughed when she beat at his leg with tightly bound hands and tried to twist free. "You ain't gonna git undressed?" he asked when Anson merely lowered his pants and unfastened the crotch of his longjohns to free a thick shaft which was taut and drooling with hunger.
"Ain't got time. I'm hurting as it is. This big stud needs a fast mating," Anson replied crudely, fondly caressing his aching manhood. He knelt, seizing her imprisoned hands and throwing his confining body on hers as Jim lifted his weight.
By that time, Lucas was stirring and groaning. Anson laughed satanically as Jim struck him again, this time harder. "I'll tie that sly fox whilst you have your turn with her. You ain't gonna spoil our fun, boy. You just lie still 'til we git some relief."
Miranda prayed Lucas was alive, but she feared he wasn't. He was so still and his chest didn't appear to rise and fall. There was so much blood running down into his brown curls. For a time, she had more concern and attention for Lucas than for herself. But with his groin exposed and hardened, Anson's forceful and lewd grinding against her private region refreshed her peril.
When she screamed and fought with renewed energy from fear and fury, Jim asked if Anson wanted her silenced. Anson laughed coldly and said, "No need. Can't nobody hear her. 'Sides, she'll be sighing in pleasure real soon. You know how them women from Newman's wagons fight over who's gonna take care of this boy. Hell, most of the time they don't even charge me!" he boasted falsely. "You tie that youngster, then git ready to follow me. Let's get some relief, then we'll have some slow fun. These two'll pay for tricking us. Luke there won't make no reports to nobody. As for this little filly, we might find somebody willing to pay hefty for 'er, if they's anything left."
There wasn't time for Miranda to ponder his odd words or ominous threat. While she tried to resist the demands of Anson, Jim bound Lucas with his belt and rolled him into the bushes,
saying he didn't want no kin staring at him while he enjoyed a "good balling."
Jim started undressing, hopping around on one foot as he removed the boot from the other. Unable to pull his eyes from Anson as he fumbled to find the. waistband of her bloomers, Jim pulled off the other boot and his pants, tossing his clothes and gun in a pile. He unbuttoned his longjohns and was attempting to yank. them off.
The air was silent but for the heavy breathing from three people and Miranda's grunts as she attempted to keep Anson from removing her bloomers. Unable to stop herself, she yelled at him, "You bastard! You'll pay for this! Get off of me! Touch me and I'll kill you!"
Suddenly, loud and ferocious growls offered more noise and threat than a violent thunderstorm. Anson ceased his attack to shout, "What was that, Jim?" Both men stiffened as small trees to their left moved violently as something awesome headed in their direction.
"I hope it ain't what I think," Jim replied hastily, frantically trying to free his arms from his last garment. He lunged for his discarded weapon, wishing he had his Springfield rifle from the boat.
Jim tossed clothes and boots in all directions and located his Army-issue revolver, but it jammed during the panic of the moment as he fired wildly into the trees. He cursed as he fumbled feverishly to get it working. If only he had that new Colt he had been promised.
Anson made a rolling dive for his weapon, but it was too late. A large, dark blur had surged from the concealing trees, heading for Anson who had tripped on the pants around his ankles. Still fully clothed, Miranda scrambled to lower her skirt and to avoid attracting the bear's attention. She hastily pressed herself against a large rock and attempted to control her noisy respiration.
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