Feather in the Wind

by Madeline Baker

  Susannah nodded. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind but that the sergeant meant every word, or that he was capable of shooting Black Wind in cold blood.

  “Good.” He squatted on his heels in a corner of the stall, his pistol in his hand. “You men, take cover. Fint, turn out that lamp.”

  * * * * *

  Tate Sapa ran effortlessly through the night, reveling in the cool wind against his face, the feel of the earth beneath his feet. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sage and grass, the pungent odor of a skunk.

  It was exhilarating, to be running wild and free through the night, bringing to mind the first time he had gone on a horse stealing expedition. He had been a young warrior then, eager to count his first coup, to steal horses from the Crow, to raid the villages of the Pawnee.

  He had soon learned that war had a price, and that it was most often paid by the elderly and the very young. When a warrior was killed, his family sometimes went hungry. When enemy tribes attacked their village, the old and infirm were often struck down. Unable to flee, too old to fight, they sometimes sacrificed their lives to save those who were younger. He had seen men and women too old to fight hurl themselves in front of the soldiers’ horses in an effort to slow them down so that children and grandchildren might have time to run to safety.

  His comrades sometimes thought him a coward because he spoke for peace instead of war. But his bravery in battle, the number of coup he had counted, the horses he had stolen, soon silenced their accusations. Of all the young men in his tribe, none had garnered more honors in battle than he had.

  He came to a halt atop a small rise, his gaze running over the buildings situated below. No lights shone in the house.

  He stood there until his breathing returned to normal, studying the layout of the house and corrals, silently thanking Wakán Tanka that the moon and stars were hidden behind a bank of clouds.

  Running lightly, he ran down the slope, slowing to a walk as he moved downwind toward the nearest corral. There were three horses inside. He studied them quickly, picking a dun-colored gelding and a dark-gray mare.

  Pulling a bridle from the waistband of his clout, he slipped between the bars.

  The horses eyed him warily as he moved toward them.

  “Easy, tasunke,” he murmured. “Easy now.”

  Moving slowly, he approached the gray. She whinnied softly, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in his scent.

  “Easy, tasunke.” He slipped the bridle over her head and fastened it in place, then removed the rope wrapped around his waist, fashioned a loop, and dropped it over the dun’s neck.

  Leading both horses, he opened the corral gate, then vaulted onto the back of the gray. Drumming his heels into the mare’s sides, he rode out of the corral.

  * * * * *

  Heart pounding, Susannah lay in the darkness, ears straining for some sound of Black Wind’s return. She had to warn him away, but how? Beside her, she heard the sergeant shifting in the straw. She could smell the perspiration clinging to his clothes. She couldn’t let these men take him back to the fort, she thought frantically, she couldn’t bear the thought of him being imprisoned again or, worse, being hanged.

  She drew in a sharp breath as she heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching the barn, then the soft tread of moccasins as Black Wind stepped into the barn. He hesitated inside the doorway, and she wondered if he sensed something was wrong. She could feel a sheen of nervous perspiration on her brow, the rapid beating of her heart. The other soldiers were in the loft. If she warned Black Wind now, he had a good chance of getting away before they shot him.

  “Run!” She scrambled to her feet as she shouted the warning, screamed with pain as liquid fire seared through her right arm and side.

  She reeled forward, striking her head on the edge of the stall, and then blackness engulfed her.

  * * * * *

  “Susannah? Susannah? Landsakes, child, can you hear me?”

  Hester’s voice penetrated layers of darkness, calling her from the comfort of oblivion to the awareness of pain. With a groan, she opened her eyes to find Hester hovering over her, a worried expression on her face.

  “Thank the Lord,” Hester murmured. “You gave me quite a fright.”

  “Black Wind?” Susannah tried to sit up, then fell back against the pillows as pain slashed through her right arm and side. “Where is he? Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine.” Hester placed her hand on Susannah’s brow. “You’ve got a touch of fever. Here, drink this.”

  She held a cup to Susannah’s lips.

  Susannah took several swallows. “What happened?”

  “That fool sergeant shot you. He was aiming for Black Wind when you stood up.” Hester sniffed loudly. “Landsakes, child, you might have been killed.”

  It was a sobering thought. If she died here, no one back home would ever know what had happened to her. Of course, unless she found her way back home, they’d never know anyway.

  “Seems like you’re always doctoring one of us,” Susannah said wearily. “I’ll bet you’re sorry we ever came here.”

  “Nonsense! I’m glad to do it. Well, not glad to do it,” Hester said, grinning, “but glad to be able to help. You get some rest now.”

  “I want to see Black Wind.”

  “I’ll ask the sergeant.”

  “They didn’t hurt him, did they? He’s all right?”

  Hester’s gaze slid away from Susannah’s.

  “Hester?”

  “Well, I’m afraid he went kind of wild when he saw you go down. Took five of them soldiers to subdue him. I’m afraid he took a bit of a beating ’fore they got him quieted down.”

  “But he’s all right?” Susannah asked anxiously.

  Hester nodded. “He’ll be fine.” She started to leave the room, then hesitated. “Why, Susannah? Why did he steal those horses?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” she replied, “except to say the Indians don’t think of it as stealing when you’re stealing from the enemy.”

  “He could have stolen our horses any time he wanted.”

  “We wouldn’t steal from you,” Susannah said. “You’ve been so good to us.”

  Hester nodded. “I think I understand. You get some rest. There’s nothing either one of us can do for Black Wind right now.”

  She wanted to argue, to get up and see for herself that Black Wind wasn’t badly hurt, but trying to sit up made her feel dizzy and nauseous.

  That slight exertion drained what little strength she had. Moments later, she was asleep.

  * * * * *

  Susannah woke to the sound of someone calling her name. Opening her eyes, she saw Hester standing beside the bed, looking down at her. For a moment, she stared at Hester, wondering why the other woman looked so worried, and then it all came back in a rush. She started to sit up, and felt a sharp stab of pain sizzle through her right arm and side.

  “Just take it easy, honey. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

  “Black Wind. Where’s Black Wind?”

  “He’s in the barn.”

  “I want to see him.” She struggled to sit up, ignoring the wave of dizziness that swept over her. “I’ve got to see him.”

  With a harumph of disapproval, Hester helped Susannah to her feet. She muttered under her breath as she helped her get dressed, shaking her head over the stubbornness of some women.

  In spite of the pain of her wounds and the seriousness of their situation, Susannah had to smile.

  When she was dressed, she gave Hester a quick, one-armed hug. “You’re the best, you know that?”

  “Go on with you now,” Hester said. “If you’re determined to do this, let’s get on with it.”

  “You don’t have to go with me.”

  “I ain’t lettin’ you go traipsin’ down there among all them soldiers by yourself, not for a minute.”

  Abe was sitting on a stump in the front yard, glaring at the soldiers who were grouped together near the
barn.

  Susannah lifted her chin defiantly as she walked by the men, aware of their smirks and loudly whispered slurs.

  “Don’t let it bother you none,” Hester said.

  “I won’t,” Susannah replied. But being called a squaw and an Injun lover and a traitor hurt just the same.

  The sergeant was standing near the barn door, smoking a cigar. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  “I want to see my husband.”

  “Husband, is it?”

  Susannah lifted her chin and met his gaze.”Yes.”

  He snorted contemptuously. “Make it short. Now that you’re up and around, we’ll be leaving in half an hour. Be ready.”

  With a curt nod, Susannah stepped past him.

  Black Wind was being held in the stall they had shared.

  She knelt beside him, the pain of her own wounds forgotten as her gaze swept over him. His arms were tightly bound behind his back, there was dried blood on his nose and mouth, several bruises on his arms and chest. The left side of his face was swollen and discolored.

  “Are you all right?” It seemed a silly question, in view of the way he looked, but she had to ask.

  Tate Sapa nodded, his dark eyes intense upon her face. “The baby?” he asked softly, aware of the soldiers standing nearby.

  “Everything’s okay,” she assured him.

  His gaze moved to the bandage on her arm. “You should not have tried to warn me, Su-san-nah.”

  “I had to. Don’t worry about me. I’m all right. It’s just a scratch, really.”

  “What will they do to you?”

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t want to think about that. O’Neill had warned her that traitors were shot, but surely they wouldn’t shoot her while she was pregnant! She wanted to curl up in Black Wind’s arms, to tell him how scared she was, but she couldn’t do that, not now. He had enough to worry about without her acting like a helpless ninny.

  Leaning forward, she kissed him gently. “I love you.”

  “Su-san-nah…”

  “Time’s up. We’re moving out.”

  At the sound of the sergeant’s gruff voice, Susannah kissed Black Wind again, then stood up.

  “I love you.” She mouthed the words as she backed out of the stall, then stood in the aisle, watching as two soldiers grabbed Black Wind and hauled him to his feet.

  “Just a minute,” Hester said. “You’re not taking Susannah away from here until I’ve checked her wounds and she’s had a good breakfast.”

  “See here, ma’am…”

  “No, Sergeant, you see here. This woman’s been hurt, and I ain’t sendin’ her off with you until she’s been taken care of properly.”

  Hands fisted on her hips, Hester glared at the sergeant.

  He surrendered with a wry grin. “Try not to take too long, ma’am. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

  Back at the house, Hester checked Susannah’s arm and side, declaring that she was “dang lucky” as she applied a fresh coat of salve, then rebandaged the wounds.

  When that was done, Hester fried up a mess of eggs, bacon and potatoes and insisted Susannah eat every bite on her plate. She sent Abe to the barn with a plate for Black Wind, and told him to stay there and make sure he got to eat it.

  “I think maybe I’d best go along to the fort and make sure they treat you right,” Hester said as she watched Susannah eat. “Yes, I think that’s what I’d better do.”

  “Hester, I can’t let you do that.”

  “Well, child, I don’t see how you can stop me.”

  As it turned out, Abe couldn’t stop her either, and neither could the sergeant. In the end, Abe decided he couldn’t let his wife go by herself, so he hitched the team to a wagon and tied his riding horse to the tailgate. While Hester packed a bag, he filled a couple of canteens and tossed them in the back of the wagon, along with a couple of blankets and a pillow. After closing the barn door, he stood with his back against the wagon box, his arms folded over his chest, while he waited for Hester.

  She came out a few minutes later carrying a flowered carpetbag.

  “I think Susannah should ride in the wagon,” Hester decided.

  She put on a big yellow sunbonnet, then handed one to Susannah. The sergeant took one look at Hester’s set expression and decided not to argue. Muttering under his breath, he lifted Susannah into the bed of the wagon, then mounted his horse and rode out.

  Susannah tied the sunbonnet in place, grateful for the older woman’s thoughtfulness. “But, Hester, what about your place?”

  “It’ll be fine,” Hester replied, tucking a pillow behind Susannah’s back. “The cattle can look out for themselves for a few days. I left a note on the door for anyone who happens to stop by, telling them where we are. Lucy Halliday was supposed to come by tomorrow to help me with some canning. Lucy and her husband will look after things ’til we get back.”

  With a sigh, Susannah sat back against the side of the wagon so she could see Black Wind. Hands secured behind his back, he was riding between two of the soldiers, his face impassive. He was bloody and bound, she thought with a sense of pride, but not beaten. Defiance blazed in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders.

  It was a long, hard ride. The bouncing of the wagon jarred Susannah’s arm and side, increasing the ache. She wondered if Black Wind was sorry they had met. It seemed to her she had caused him nothing but trouble. His people had rejected him because of her, and now he was on his way back to jail when he should be warning his people to pack up and move the village.

  Susannah stared into the distance. The sight of so much empty space still amazed her. Born and reared in the city, she found the vastly rolling plains both awe-inspiring and frightening. Until she came here, she had never been any place that didn’t have a convenience store, a gas station or a mall within a few blocks. Out here, one could go hundreds of miles before reaching civilization.

  Time and again on the long ride, Black Wind’s gaze met hers. There was no anger in his eyes when he looked at her, no censure, only love and reassurance.

  They’d been traveling for hours when the sergeant finally called a halt near a shallow stream. “Thirty minutes,” he said.

  The men dismounted and watered their horses, then wandered away to see to their own needs. Two of the soldiers escorted Black Wind.

  Abe helped Susannah out of the back of the wagon. Two troopers were there, waiting for her. They reminded her of Laurel and Hardy, one tall and thin, one rather stout with a moustache.

  “Come on,” Hester said, taking Susannah’s arm. “I need to find a bush.”

  Susannah nodded.

  Hester scowled at the two men who followed them. “There ain’t no place for us to run off to, so you just keep back aways, hear? I don’t intend to lift my skirts with you two lookin’ on.”

  The younger of the two men, the one who looked like Stan Laurel, blushed furiously, stammered, “Yes ma’am,” and turned his back, ignoring the laughter of his comrade.

  “Humph. Fine thing, when a lady can’t be left alone to answer nature’s call,” Hester complained as she dragged Susannah behind a clump of bushes. “How you feelin’, honey?”

  “I’m all right.” Susannah blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. Lately, it seemed as though she was constantly on the verge of tears. She’d never been such a crybaby in her whole life, and she didn’t know whether it was caused by circumstances, the fact that she was hurting and tired, or her pregnancy. With a sigh, she decided it was probably all of the above.”I’m worried about Black Wind, Hester.”

  “I know, child, I know, but you’ve got to have faith that everything will turn out for the best.”

  “I don’t see how it can.”

  “That’s why you need faith, child. You’ve got to cast your burdens on the Lord, and trust that He’ll see you through.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Well, that’s all He asks of us, dearie, that we try.”

  Susanna
h pressed her hand over her stomach. “You don’t think all that bouncing around will hurt the baby, do you?”

  “Landsakes, no. That baby will be fine.”

  Susannah threw her arms around the other woman and gave her a fierce hug. “Hester, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’re a strong woman, Susannah, you’d get by.” Hester returned Susannah’s hug. “Okay now, you put a smile on your face. We don’t want to give that man of yours anything more to worry about.”

  With a nod, Susannah wiped her eyes, then ran a hand through her hair. Hester was right. She had to believe everything would work out for the best.

  Returning to the rest site, she accepted a canteen of water from one of the men, then went to stand beside Black Wind. She uncapped the canteen and offered him a drink. When he had quenched his thirst, she took a long drink, then soaked a corner of her skirt with water and washed the blood from his face.

  He winced as she ran the cloth over his left cheek.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Are you sure?” She ran her fingertips over the left side of his face, down his arm, over his chest. His eye was swollen, the bruises on his arms and chest were a remarkable shade of greenish-purple. “You look terrible.”

  “I am fine, Su-san-nah.” His gaze slid over her from head to foot. “Are you well?”

  She forced a smile. “We’re both fine. Don’t worry.”

  “How can you tell me not to worry?” he asked bitterly. “I will soon be back in prison. The Army thinks you are a traitor. Should they decide to imprison you, or worse, I will not be able to protect you.”

  “I’m not afraid.” It was a bald-faced lie. She was terrified of what waited for them at the fort, of being separated from Black Wind, of facing a future in this time and place without him beside her. She wished he could hold her, desperately needed to feel the strength of his arms around her, but with his hands lashed behind his back that was impossible.

  He didn’t say anything, but his wry smile, the sad expression in his eyes, told her he knew her words for the lie they were. “Truly, Su-san-nah, you have the heart of a Lakota warrior.”