Captive Trail

by Susan Page Davis

  “The chapel,” Sister Natalie said. “They won’t hurt the stone floor.”

  Ned fired his revolver, and the tall man aimed his rifle toward the road. Hoofbeats thundered past the house. “Get in,” Ned yelled. “Go!”

  The women scrambled back and Mr. Garza entered the dim hall, pulling his horse by the reins. The black snuffled and stepped in timidly. Billie hovered in the sitting room doorway and watched as Garza held the horse’s head low and urged him quietly to follow. To her amazement, the black meekly walked the short distance to the chapel doorway. Sister Natalie held aside the curtain in the doorway to the larger room.

  Now the tall man was in the front doorway. “Can someone help me?” he called. “I have an extra horse.”

  Billie stepped forward. “I help.”

  He eyed her sharply, squinting at her face, but said nothing as he placed the horse’s reins in her hand. Outside she heard more gunshots and a wild Comanche yell.

  She stroked the horse’s sweet face and clucked to him. He calmly stepped over the threshold and walked with her to the chapel. A moment later the man appeared, leading the third horse.

  “Ned?” she asked.

  “He’s coming.”

  “Taabe, squeeze that horse over here,” Mr. Garza called. “It’s going to be a tight fit with four of them in here.”

  Billie nudged the horse’s shoulder and flank, and it stepped obligingly sideways toward Garza’s black gelding. She dropped the reins and hurried to help Sister Natalie who was stacking the benches against the far wall.

  “We’ll have to take these out,” Sister Natalie said. “Billie, snuff the candles.”

  Billie wasn’t sure what “snuff” meant, but she knew the word “candles.”

  “Dark,” she said.

  “It’s all right. I’ll bring a lantern, but I don’t want the horses around open flames. If they knock them over, they could burn the house down.”

  Billie understood. Though the outer walls were made of thick adobe, the inner walls, ceilings, roof, and furnishings would burn quickly.

  She edged around the horses’ heads to the shelf that held a dozen small jars containing candles. Four were burning in front of the small statues on the wall. Billie blew them out, grabbed a basket from the floor beneath the shelf, and shoved the jars into it. They had better get all the glass out of this room while the horses occupied it.

  She could barely edge past the horses to reach the door and realized the fourth horse was in. That meant Ned was safe, she hoped. She felt her way past the nickering, shifting horses, toward the light that spilled in through the hall doorway.

  Sister Riva was hanging a lantern on a peg across from the chapel door. “Best not to put the light in there, I think.”

  Billie nodded and looked down the hall toward the front door. Ned was helping Sister Adele push a heavy trunk in front of the door.

  “Where is Sister Marie?” she asked.

  “She and Sister Natalie went to check on the girls.”

  “Good.” Billie could only imagine the girls’ fear as they huddled in the root cellar and heard the commotion overhead.

  Ned came toward them. “Are all the other doors blocked?”

  “There is only that one and the kitchen door,” Sister Riva said. “We put a big cupboard in front of it.”

  Ned nodded. “These windows make it hard to see out, but at least the Indians can’t come in that way. We need someone keeping watch on each side of the house, but you need to be extremely careful.”

  Billie nodded. “Quiet now.”

  “Yes. I think they’ve backed off and are deciding what to do next. We surprised them by bringing the horses in. I’m grateful for that—but sorry for you ladies. They’ll make a mess of the chapel.”

  “We will clean it up,” Sister Adele said.

  Mr. Garza came out of the chapel carrying a tooled stock saddle. “Where can we stash our gear, Sister?”

  “I will show you,” Sister Riva said. She led him toward the dining room.

  Garza paused and called back toward the chapel, “Hey, Morgan! Bring your saddles.”

  Billie stared at him. Garza hurried away, and she turned to Ned.

  “Morgan?”

  Ned nodded and smiled, reaching to pat her shoulder. “The man with us is Jud Morgan. Your brother.”

  Jud returned from leaving his saddle in the dining room. As he came toward them, Ned’s gaze was riveted on Billie. She let out a little gasp.

  Ned touched her sleeve gently and stepped forward.

  “Jud, I know this isn’t a good time, but there may not be a better one. This is the woman we believe is your sister.”

  “Billie.” Jud stared at her. The wonder on his face gave Ned no doubt that he saw similarities in her features to the little sister he’d lost so long ago.

  Her lips quivered as she returned Jud’s scrutiny. He was so tall, he loomed over her. Both seemed overcome for a moment, then he held out his hand.

  “I’m Jud. Do you remember me?”

  “I …” She tore her gaze from his face and looked at Ned. Ned laid a light hand on her shoulder. “Later you will have time to talk.” Billie nodded.

  An onslaught of hoofbeats, yelling, and gunfire made them all turn toward the entrance. Something thudded against the sturdy oak door.

  “They come now,” Billie said.

  “Yes.” Ned looked at Jud. “We need to load every gun we’ve got and take up positions at the windows.”

  “I’ll bring my weapons and get Garza.” Jud ran toward the chapel.

  Sister Adele dashed past Ned into the front sitting room. “In here, Mr. Bright. There are two windows. I can shoot if you have an extra weapon.”

  Ned picked up his rifle where he’d leaned it against the wall and followed her. “I need to reload my rifle, but my revolver still has at least four rounds in it.” He handed her the pistol. Hanging from its leather strap around his neck was the bag of reloading supplies he’d taken from his saddlebag. He pulled the strap over his head. “Don’t show yourself at the window if you can help it.”

  Sister Adele eyed the rifle. “You can trust me to reload that if you’d rather stand watch at a window.”

  “All right. That’s a good trade.” Sister Natalie would probably prefer it if the nuns didn’t do any shooting unless necessary. Ned swapped weapons with Sister Adele and gave her the bag. He walked to the nearest window slit. “How many of these openings are there in the house?”

  “Ten or twelve. The chapel is the only room without any. This room and the dining room have two. The ones in some of the bedrooms are even smaller than these.”

  The mounted warriors tore around the front of the house, yelling at the top of their lungs. Ned ducked against the edge of the window. Looking through the slit in the thick wall, he didn’t know if the revolver would do him much good against the galloping targets. But if they came in close, he might do well with it.

  “They’re having to ride way out around the garden wall when they circle behind the house,” he said.

  “Good!” Sister Adele brought the rifle over. “You have caps and balls for that revolver in here. Shall I fill the empty chambers for you?”

  Ned handed it over. “Thank you. You’re a nun with unexpected talents.”

  She grinned. “My father taught me. He wanted a boy, and he got four girls.”

  Sister Marie came in with a rustle of her habit. “Do you need anything?”

  “We’re fine,” Ned said. “Can you ladies join the girls in the hiding place?”

  “It’s too small, but that’s all right. We’ll help you any way we can.”

  “What about Billie?” Sister Adele asked.

  “She is with the horses. She seems very good at calming them. And she told Mr. Morgan she wouldn’t hide again. Now that you men are here, she wants to fight.”

  The noise increased outside, and Ned peered out the window. “We’d better douse the lantern as soon as you’re done reloading, Sister
.”

  “It’s what they call a dark lantern,” Sister Adele said. “I can cover the light when we’re not using it, without blowing it out.” She handed the Colt to Ned.

  He holstered it, still watching out the window. “They’re in the dooryard now. I can’t see what they’re doing.”

  Sister Marie went to the other window.

  “Don’t let them see you,” Ned told her.

  “They’re near the barn,” Sister Marie said. “I count four—no five.”

  “Looking for livestock?” Sister Adele asked. “No. They are going to fire the roof.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Are they burning our barn?” Sister Adele asked. Ned walked to the other window. Sister Marie stepped back so he could look out. “Sure looks that way. They just put a torch to some straw, and they’re holding it up to the edge of the roof.”

  “God be thanked you didn’t put your horses in there.” Sister Adele crossed herself.

  “What’s to keep them from doing the same to the house?” Sister Marie asked.

  Ned gritted his teeth, but he had no answer. “Pray, ladies. Where is Sister Natalie?”

  “I don’t know,” Sister Adele said. “In the chapel praying, perhaps.”

  “No, the horses are in there,” Sister Marie said. “She is in one of the bedchambers. Señor Garza gave her his pistol and told her to use it if one of the Indians came close to the house on that side. He is in the kitchen with his rifle.”

  “What about the girls?” Ned asked.

  “They are still in the cellar. Quinta wanted to get out and see her papa, but we made them stay down there. I showed him where it is and he talked to her for a minute. They are frightened. Some of the girls are crying—not Quinta. She told him to give her a kiss and the two kittens.”

  Ned laughed. “That sounds like Quinta.”

  “She would get out and help with the horses if her father would let her.”

  A shout came from outside the window. Ned peered out, keeping to the edge. The warrior in the yard called out again, not the bloodcurdling scream he’d heard before. This was a demanding shout.

  “Get Billie,” Ned said grimly. “They want something.” He could see flames along the edge of the barn roof. A single warrior sat on his mustang in the middle of the dooryard, fearlessly facing the house.

  Billie left the chapel at Sister Marie’s summons, squeezing between two of the horses.

  “In the parlor,” Sister Marie said. “Quickly.”

  Only a faint ray of light escaped the covered lantern. That and the sliver of sunlight streaming through the window slit gave enough illumination for her to make out one of the nuns and a man in the room.

  “Billie,” Ned called. “Come over here, but stay to this side of the window. There’s a man on horseback outside shouting at us.”

  She took her place beside him, and Ned put his hand, warm and firm, on her shoulder. She peeked out, then gasped and drew back. “Fire.”

  “Yes,” Ned said. “They’ve touched off the barn roof. But what about the rider in the dooryard? Did you see him?”

  She leaned forward a tiny bit at a time until she saw the horseman. He raised a lance high and shouted something in Comanche. Over the wind and the crackling flames, she could make out only a few words, but she recognized the voice and the silhouette.

  “Peca. He wants to talk.”

  “Can you ask what they want? No, wait.” Ned squeezed her shoulder gently. “We don’t want to let them know for sure that you’re here. Can you tell me the words to say?”

  Billie leaned slowly until she could see Peca again. He still sat on his mustang, exposed in the dooryard. She wondered if Ned could shoot him from here. If one of them didn’t stop Peca, the warrior would not rest until he had her in his grasp.

  She was about to draw back when a second horseman trotted over beside him.

  “Another man with him now,” she told Ned. “White man.”

  “What? Let me see.” Ned pulled her back, and she let him take over the post at the window. After a long moment he drew back and reached for her. He found her hand and held it. “That’s Trainer out there. The buffalo hunter.”

  Billie swallowed hard. “He bring Peca.”

  “Probably. He went and found Peca’s band is my guess. That’s why it was quiet the last few weeks. He went to sell information to the Comanche and bring them here.”

  “Peca burn house too,” she said.

  Ned’s jaw tensed. “This house has a sod roof, doesn’t it?”

  Sister Adele came to stand closer. “Most of it. But it has a wooden frame, like the barn roof. And the part where the kitchen sticks out is shingled. Part of that side—mostly over the woodshed and the chapel—has shingles.”

  “Not good.” Ned looked out again.

  Billie stood quietly, waiting for him to make a decision. Did Ned understand the Numinu way of thinking? She doubted he would credit Peca with the ruthlessness and determination she’d seen in him.

  Another shout came to them through the window slit.

  “The barn roof is smoldering,” Ned said. “Trainer says to come out and parley.”

  “You mustn’t,” Sister Adele said.

  Billie clutched Ned’s wrist. “Don’t go. They would kill you. Do not trust them.”

  Ned nodded. “Thought maybe I could talk through this window.”

  “Be careful,” Billie said. “They might shoot in window.”

  “All right, get over to one side.”

  She flattened herself against the wall, and Ned kept hold of her hand as he put his face to the edge of the opening. Billie knew she couldn’t take what he did in this time of crisis as a sign of what he would do in the future, but the fact that he continued to hold on to her was something she would think about many times when this was over. She only hoped she would not be riding north with the Comanche as she mourned for Ned.

  “Trainer!” Ned pulled away from the window as soon as he’d yelled the man’s name.

  “That you, Bright?”

  “What do you want?” Ned shouted.

  “You know what we want. The girl.” The wind snatched Trainer’s words, but Billie heard them, spooky and faded. She shivered.

  “Her family came to get her,” Ned yelled.

  Billie stared at him in the darkness. Was he trying to bluff Peca and the buffalo hunter into thinking she’d already gone?

  “Come on,” Trainer answered. “We’ve torched the barn. We can burn you out of the house too.”

  Sister Marie fell to her knees and clasped her hands. Sister Adele went to her side and knelt too.

  “There’s no need for things to get grimmer,” Ned shouted. “The Comanche don’t really want to hurt the sisters, do they?”

  “They don’t want to hurt anyone, Bright. They just want the woman called Taabe Waipu back. She’s one of them.”

  “She left the Comanche by her own choice.”

  “And she can return. They want her back. Send her out and we’ll all leave.”

  “No,” Ned yelled.

  Trainer wheeled his horse and galloped toward the road. He was soon out of Ned’s line of vision.

  “Now what?” Sister Adele had left off her prayers, and she stood and walked toward them.

  “I don’t know,” Ned said. “Can you go around to the other rooms and see if anyone has seen activity outside besides the barn roof? That will burn slowly with the sod on top, but it will probably be ruined just the same. I just hope they don’t try the same thing on this building.”

  “I’ll ask the others,” Sister Adele said.

  “You could also put buckets of water in every room,” Ned said.

  Sister Marie stood. “I will help. We have barrels.”

  The two nuns scurried out of the room.

  “Billie,” Ned said softly. He moved closer to her in the darkness until she could feel his warmth. “I won’t let them take you.”

  She reached for him, and Ned pulled her in w
ith his left arm, keeping the rifle clear with the other hand. She leaned against him, her head resting over his heart.

  “They will burn the mission,” she whispered. “Hurt the sisters. And the girls. They will take them. Quinta. She will fight, so they might kill her.”

  “No. We won’t let that happen.”

  “Peca will do it. We should tell them don’t scream, don’t cry, don’t fight. Obey and they will keep you alive.”

  “No. We can’t give up hope.” Ned moved back to the window. “They’re taking their time. The adobe is on our side. But if we could get word to the fort …”

  “Too far,” Billie said.

  “I’m afraid so. But there are ranchers nearby …”

  “If they come, Numinu will kill them.”

  “But they might hear the gunfire and ride to the fort and tell Captain Tapley.”

  “Maybe so,” Billie said. The racing hoofbeats returned, and Ned leaned from one side to the other to see as much as possible.

  “Ned?”

  Billie and Ned turned toward the doorway, where Tree Garza stood.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s going on? I can’t see a thing from the kitchen window. Figured I’d be better off in here helping you. They tell me that part of the house has a shingled roof—I can’t say I’m happy that the girls are right under it.”

  “I know,” Ned said. “They’ve torched the barn roof, but it’s slow to catch.”

  Tree shook his head. “It will smolder for hours.”

  Yells and hoofbeats, pounding close to the house, reached them, and thunks against the wall made Billie duck back and pull Ned farther from the window.

  “They shoot,” she said.

  Tree dived low against the outside wall. “They’re shooting arrows. Wonder how many guns they have.”

  “Peca have rifle,” Billie said. “Maybe a few more. But they shoot arrows in window.”

  More missiles thudded against the oak door in the hall and the adobe wall close to them. One shaft zipped through the window slit and plunked into the opposite wall.

  “Now they’re getting close,” Ned said.

  Tree raised his head and eyed the windows. “That wall out back keeps them from making a tight circle around the house.”