Joy rushed through her at his words. Yes, she belonged to Caleb Sax. She had always belonged to Caleb Sax, always known he would come back. His hypnotic blue eyes held her green ones, saying all that needed to be said. She was going to be his wife and they were going to be so happy together. He would gently show her how to be a woman, and she would give him more sons, and they would share a little cabin somewhere on the wild frontier.
Chapter
Seventeen
A week passed, a week of enjoying the sweetness of newfound love. They met three more times, and Sarah was hardly able to leave him each time. Her body and heart and soul were alive for him. Each meeting was filled with passion and love, the joy of being together, the wonder of realizing their feelings of kinship had turned into something so perfect and beautiful.
Each became more anxious to make it real and lasting. Caleb wanted her totally, wanted to be one in body, and knew she wanted the same. Denying the consummation of their love was painful, but it only seemed right they should first be married.
It was easy to imagine them living together in a cabin west of the Mississippi, raising little Tom, and Caleb was becoming anxious to get back to his son. Finally the hurt of losing Walking Grass was bearable. He could even live with the sorrow of losing Tom Sax, for now he had Sarah. He wanted to treasure her the rest of his life.
They discussed the possibility of simply telling Terrence Sax and getting it over with, but always decided against it. Caleb knew all too well the look Terrence Sax had given him the night he had told him to leave Saint Louis. Men like Terrence Sax did not appreciate the honest approach. Going against him was not the same as going against a band of Crow. This was a white man’s game, and white men like Terrence Sax did not wage their battles openly; they used underhanded deceptions at every opportunity.
Sarah did not want to believe Terrence Sax was capable of bringing harm to Caleb, or that the man could possibly be so cruel as to deny her the man she really loved. But as time passed she had to believe it. Terrence spent too much time at the supper table every night insulting Caleb, blustering that it was best for them all that Caleb was gone. She wasn’t sure how to approach the man without getting Caleb in trouble, and she was certain her uncle would have Caleb run out of town before he would settle down and listen to her personal wishes. Each time she thought she had the courage to face him with her love for Caleb, he would say something about the upcoming dance or taking her on a trip East, and always he rambled on about how lucky she was to be living in Saint Louis, where “a woman can be a woman and not a plow horse.”
How could she explain about Caleb? How could anyone like her uncle understand? It was so special and beautiful. Every time his lips touched hers, the magic started again. Just the thought of being loved and touched by Caleb brought a joy unlike anything she had ever experienced. It seemed as if they had never been children, that it had always been like this. She had always loved him, always known Caleb Sax would be the man she would one day love and marry. Nothing must separate them now. Nothing. Somehow they would find a way to be together forever. But in her joy and eagerness to see Caleb each time, she grew careless.
Terrence Sax looked up with a friendly grin as Byron Clawson entered his office, which was as elegant as his home. It was located above one of the several supply stores he owned, which together were called Sax Enterprises. Terrence reached out across the oak desk and shook Byron’s hand.
“Well, young man, what can I do for you today?” he asked, leaning back in his padded leather chair.
Byron took a seat across from him, his face serious. “I’m afraid I have some troublesome news, sir.”
“Oh?” Terrence’s eyebrows arched. “And what might a bright young man like yourself have to tell me that is troublesome?”
Byron sighed deeply, feigning genuine concern. “It’s Sarah, sir.” He shook his head and frowned. “You know how I feel about her. I love her. I want to marry her. But, well… I’m afraid I’ve discovered something, quite by accident.”
Terrence’s heart quickened. “What are you talking about?’
Byron took out a thin cigar and lit it. “Well, sir, I saw her get out of her carriage in town yesterday and started to catch up to her when she headed toward Sixth Street I thought that strange, since none of the best shops are there. I am afraid I couldn’t help but follow, out of concern and curiosity.” He puffed his cigar. “When she got to the livery, she walked behind it and into the forest, looking around first as though to make sure no one saw her. I waited awhile, then moved as quietly as possible in that direction. I saw a camp, a tent and two horses. I waited quite a bit longer until Sarah came out of the tent—with Caleb Sax.”
Terrence paled. “Caleb Sax? But he left town. He checked out of his room.”
Byron grinned pompously. “Out of his room, perhaps, but not out of Saint Louis, or out of our Sarah’s life. Needless to say, I am very upset, Mr. Sax. I dearly hope the man has not stolen what I always considered would be mine on my wedding night, if you know what I mean. I never thought Sarah would do something like this.”
Terrence felt the palms of his hands grow sweaty. Not Sarah. Cora had been bad enough, but Sarah? How could he tell this young man—or anyone—the truth about her? Only Mary knew now, for Tom and Cora Sax were dead. He swallowed, feeling suddenly weak and beaten. “The bastard,” he whispered.
“My sentiments exactly. What would you like to do about it, Mr. Sax?”
Terrence met the young man’s cool gray eyes. “How do you even know Caleb Sax?” he asked. “I didn’t know you’d ever met him.”
Byron colored slightly, scrambling to think quickly. “I, uh… I met him the day of Sarah’s birthday party. When I took her for that walk, the Indian had the audacity to appear out of the nowhere and threaten me, telling me I had no right being with Sarah.” He snorted with disdain. “I needn’t tell you that the man can be quite frightening when he wants to be. After all, he is a savage. He had a knife and I was alone, so I chose the best solution for the moment. I never said anything to you because I didn’t want to make trouble for Sarah. But I do have a score to settle with him, and I would ike your permission to do so. Of course, considering the kind of man he is, it would take several men to persuade him to really leave this time.”
Terrence leaned forward in his chair, seeming to age before Byron’s eyes. “Are you asking my permission?”
“I thought it wise. He does, after all, have some kind of association with your family.”
“My brother’s, not mine,” he retorted. “Do what you wish, but I don’t want him killed or in some way mutilated, understand? I won’t be party to anything like that. But a good licking with a threat of death might do it. As far as Sarah, I don’t know what to do. You still love her?”
“By all means. I understand that she is still very much a child. She simply doesn’t understand that she’s acting foolishly, but I’m willing to be patient. She’s a good girl. I’m sure she’s done nothing… sinful. At least we must hope so. Once this young man is gone she’ll come around soon enough.” He puffed the cigar once more and leaned forward. “I would like your permission to marry her as soon as possible, Mr. Sax. Father is setting me up with a very good job in Washington, and I’d like to get married and move there in the near future. I’m sure once Sarah is there, surrounded by elegant ladies, the latest fashions and the powerful and elite of our capital, she’ll wonder why she was ever interested in a worthless half-breed with nothing to offer.”
Terrence nodded. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Right now I’m going home to make sure Sarah is there and stays there for three or four days.”
Byron rose, putting out his cigar in an ashtray. “I’ll need a couple of days to round up the kind of men who are willing to do the job and keep their mouths shut about it.” He fully intended to go after Caleb Sax much sooner, perhaps even today, but he didn’t want Terrence Sax to know the details. It was Clawson’s personal vendetta. He hated Caleb Sax
for humiliating him as he had done the day of the party.
“Just keep my name out of it.”
“Naturally.” Byron put out his hand and Terrence took it again. “For the love of Sarah,” Byron told him.
Sax’s eyes actually teared. “Yes. For the love of Sarah.”
Sarah straightened her hat as she descended the stairs and headed toward the door. She was stopped by her uncle, whose face reddened with anger when he saw her.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She had never seen him look at her as he was now, and it confused and frightened her. “Just shopping,” she answered, feeling her cheeks warm.
“You have everything you need. What would you be shopping for?”
She swallowed. “Oh, Uncle Terrence, you know how women are.”
He stepped closer. “Yes, I know—all too well. Get upstairs to your room. You’ll not go out today. Or tomorrow or the next day.”
She blinked, struggling against tears. “Why?”
“Because I say so.”
Her brows knit together in confusion. “Uncle Terrence, you’ve never behaved toward me this way before. What have I done to upset you?” Did he know? Yes, she realized, somehow he had found out.
“You know what you’ve done, Sarah Sax. I’ve given you everything, yet you have gone behind my back and done something you knew I would never approve of.”
Her love for Caleb gave her courage, and she managed to rise above her fear to defend that love. “Why not, Uncle Terrence? I love Caleb. I love you, too. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate all the wonderful things you’ve done for me, but can’t you understand that I just want a very simple life with Caleb? What is so terrible about that? Caleb is good and kind. He’s—”
“I told you to go to your room,” Sax interrupted, his face stony and cold.
He suddenly was not the Terrence Sax she had always known, although the man had never been good-natured like his brother had. Still, he had always been friendly to her.
She met his eyes boldly. “And then what? You can’t stop me from loving him, Uncle Terrence.”
“He’s only using you, an Indian panting after a pretty little white girl.”
“It isn’t that way at all!” she exclaimed, her eyes tearing. “I—I don’t understand you. Why can’t you just let me be happy?”
Cora Sax had once said the same thing to him. If not for Cora, perhaps he could be more patient with this girl.
“I am going to talk to your Caleb Sax,” he lied. “And this time he will leave. A man will do anything for enough money. I’ll prove to you that your Caleb is no different.”
“He is different! He’d never take money to leave me.”
“We’ll soon know.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
He smiled sarcastically. “If he doesn’t, then I’ll interfere no more. Now go to your room.”
She was tempted to run past him, run to Caleb—run and run and run. But perhaps it was best for the moment to simply do as she was told. Perhaps it was best her uncle knew. Once he talked to Caleb, he would see Caleb’s good intentions, and maybe they could be together with Uncle Terrence’s blessings. She turned and hurried to her room, flinging herself on the bed and weeping bitterly.
Caleb stirred the rabbit stew he had made especially for Sarah. He could barely contain his growing eagerness to see her.
Her uncle was going East on a business trip in a few days, and that was when they would leave. It was all planned and everything was ready. Soon they would go away, find a preacher, and be married, then they would get little Tom. By the time anyone found them they would be happily settled and there would be nothing Terrence Sax or anyone else could do about it. It went against Caleb’s nature to have to sneak away with Sarah, but they had little choice. Here he could not fight a white man’s battle in a white man’s city, but once he and Sarah were in his own territory and she was his wife, no one could take her from him.
He stirred the stew once more, then stopped, sensing a presence, his Indian instincts suddenly alert. He rose and slowly walked toward his musket.
“Don’t do it, Indian,” someone yelled. “Move one more inch and eight musket balls will be rolling around your innards.”
Caleb stood still, trying to think clearly. These were white men out to get him. Perhaps if he didn’t move too suddenly he could get away with his life. That was the only important thing at the moment, to live, for Sarah and his son.
Eight men stepped toward him from behind the trees, all holding long muskets on him. One of them was Byron Clawson. Caleb faced him squarely.
“So you are too much of a coward to face me alone. You need seven other men to help you.”
Clawson reddened with anger. “Call me what you wish. It won’t matter when we’re through with you, breed. Scum like you has no business taking something that’s mine.”
“She was never yours.”
Byron’s lips curled in a sneer. “She soon will be. We’re going to be married, and we won’t be stopped by the likes of you, coming here and taking advantage of my Sarah’s youth and ignorance.”
“I have brought her no harm,” Caleb retorted, his eyes moving around the others, who all looked ready to pounce. “I love Sarah, and she loves me.”
There were several snickers. “In love with her white tits, maybe,” Byron sneered. “You filled her with stories about your wild adventures, didn’t you? How long did it take you to get under her dress, Indian?” He spit on Caleb, but Caleb continued to hold himself in check. Byron would like nothing more than for him to fight back. Indians hung easily enough.
Caleb held the man’s eyes challengingly. “Why don’t you tell these friends of yours what you were trying to do to Sarah the day of her birthday? If I had not come along it is you who would have forced yourself on her. She would never have you any other way. I have never touched her that way, but if I did, it would be because she wanted me to.”
Byron turned beet red, then quickly swung his musket hard, trying to hit the side of Caleb’s head. But Caleb was quick. His hand moved up and grabbed the musket, but then something hit him hard in the middle of his back and he went to his knees, reeling with pain, trying to keep his thoughts clear. He wore no weapons since he had expected only Sarah. Everything was on his horse, and he could not get to them now.
“Consider this a friendly warning, Indian,” he heard Byron say as he struggled to rise again.
Everything was suddenly clear. These men would not shoot him. Someone had told them not to. They intended to beat him into leaving Saint Louis. Whatever they had in store for him, he would not go down easily, and he would give Byron Clawson his due.
He felt them moving closer but sensed they were being hesitant, somewhat afraid of the Indian. Caleb used the moment to rise, feigning dizziness until he was sure it was Byron Clawson directly in front of him. He kicked out hard, catching Clawson in the groin so he doubled over. Then he brought up his knee, smashing it into Clawson’s face. There was an odd crunching sound, and Byron went sprawling backward, his face a mass of blood.
Caleb whirled as another man approached him from behind. He swung out hard with his fist and caught someone in the side of the neck. There was a grunt, and then four more men were on him. Kicks, punches and blows seemed to be coming down on Caleb from everywhere, but he kicked out once more, catching a third man hard in the chin. The butt of a musket was again rammed into his back, and his knees buckled a second time as a horrible pain ripped through his body.
In the next moment he was on the ground, dirt in his mouth. Kicks from booted feet seemed to come down on him like rain until he was so battered he felt nothing. This was the white man’s way of fighting, several men on one, none of them brave enough to take him on alone. But even with their great number, if he could have gotten to his weapons. …
“Rip down that tent,” someone ordered.
“Jesus, he’s some fighter,” someone else swore.
To Caleb’
s horror he felt someone grab his hair. His mind swirled with visions of Indian scalpings.
“Cut it off,” someone said, the voice sounding far, far away. “It’s the worst humiliation you can give an Indian.” Caleb felt the hair at the back of the neck being cut but could do nothing about it. Inside he screamed, but outside the kicks continued to be administered in all the right places until he saw and heard nothing at all. His last thoughts were of Sarah.
* * *
Sarah lay staring into the darkness, wondering what had happened to Caleb. Two days had gone by since her uncle had ordered her not to go out. She had only obeyed because she was so sure Caleb would come. But he had not. Her uncle had told her Caleb had taken the money and gone, but she didn’t believe it.
She sat up, knowing she had to do something. Something was terribly wrong—not just with Caleb, but with her uncle as well. He was acting so strange lately. Why was he so set that she have nothing to do with Caleb? Should she try to sneak out and find Caleb? The only way to do that would be in the night. Was she brave enough?
She walked barefoot to the door, then opened it a crack and peered into the hallway. She saw no light in her aunt and uncle’s bedroom, but she heard voices. If she was to sneak out, she must wait until they were asleep.
“I’ll see she doesn’t…”
It was her uncle’s voice. Were they talking about Caleb? Perhaps if she listened, she would find out what had really happened to him.
“Well, she’s not happy this way,” her aunt said.
Sarah crept to the doorway, standing against the wall and listening.
“You might as well face the fact that if you hadn’t raped Cora Dade after she told you she was leaving with Tom none of this would be happening,” her Aunt Mary continued. “Sarah wouldn’t be your daughter and you wouldn’t be acting this way. How can she understand your anger when she thinks you’re only her uncle?”
Savage Horizons Page 25