by Rita Hestand
"Okay." Joshua looked at her and then the breed. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Mister."
"He can't hear you now, Joshua." Katherine shook her head. Then glancing at her brother added, "don't fret so. He's going to be all right."
"Yeah, and then what?" It was impossible to console Josh now.
"I don't know. Whatever comes, we'll handle it though."
Katherine didn't want to think about that. She only knew she needed to save the man. That must come first. The dead men she would bury later. She hadn't blamed Joshua, but she'd not have him called a murderer either. The Butterfield people wouldn't like this. And she had no idea what she was going to tell them. Or if they'd believe her?
She couldn't worry about it now. She had work to do. She gathered her strength about her and began her task. She wiped the sweat of her brow on her arm and with complete remorse began to hack away at the man's ribcage. Even though in normal times, the blood itself would make her gag, right now she was a tower of strength as though something propelled her to take care of him. She wasn't a doctor and the flesh was so bloodied she couldn't find the bullet at first. Blood gushed as the knife went deeper. The bullet lodged deep. She sat on her knees so she could reach the wound better and worked for a long time. The man would occasionally open his eyes, but then close them and groaning go back to sleep.
An hour later, she got the bullet out. It felt like forever, but she got it. She had been so careful, so gentle with him. After heating the knife again, she proceeded to burn the wound closed. She'd seen her father do it many times to the animals when they snagged themselves open on rocks. The skin seared and Katherine turned away as quickly as it was finished. The stench of singed flesh curdled in her stomach.
She took the man's hand in hers and held it, feeling the big difference in their sizes and how hard work made her hands almost as callused as his. It felt good to hold another person's hand, though. To be close to another human. And again the color of their hands matched. It bothered her, but she couldn't say why.
She willed her own strength to him. She didn't know why she was doing all this, but it seemed natural to her. It was important for him to survive. "I'm going to pray for you now, sir. So that you might live, God willin'. God, you see this man, heal him, help me, and Josh. Josh didn't mean to harm him. See to him, 'cause I've done all I know how. In Jesus name. Amen."
Chapter Seven
He hardly moved throughout the entire procedure and she was sure she hadn't done everything right, her hands shook so badly. She only prayed he lived. But with her handiwork and prayer she knew somehow he would survive.
She heard Joshua dragging the men out one by one, cursing under his breath as he went. The dull thud of the bodies hitting the floor as he dragged them rang like a loud church bell in her ears, reminding her of her own deeds. She heard the thump of their boots when he drug them from the porch. A heavy sound. A lifeless sound. She couldn't worry of it. What was done, was done. She couldn't change it.
There was too much worry, too much sickness, too much work. She was weary from it all.
She didn't blame Joshua for his attitude, but he had changed since their parents took sick. They both had and she wasn't sure it was for the better. Someday they might both look back and realize that life does go on, but right now, she was doubtful of that. She felt no life, and despite her efforts, there wasn't enough time to erase all the pain.
Except when she looked at the scout. Something stirred deep within her, just looking at him. She should feel embarrassment, but she didn't. She felt a strange and tiny thread of a bond with this man. She didn't understand it. How could she bond with a stranger, a breed as he was called? She didn't see him as a breed though, she saw him as a man, a good man.
After cleansing the area, and placing a quilt from her mother's bedside trunk on the scout, she joined her brother. He hadn't made a lot of progress on the graves. Something inside her moaned with the aches of their struggles, but she tossed it aside and got the pitchfork to help loosen the hard dry dirt.
After all, work was all they had right now. And somehow work managed to keep their feelings hidden, their minds clear enough to function.
Together they struggled over the graves for a couple or three hours. The sun showed no mercy. Sweat trickled from every direction, at times so profuse she could not see. The stings of it blinding her, temporarily. Finally she took out the handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped it away.
She happened to look up and saw Hawks from the ridge above them, staring down. What did he want? Why was he there everyday? Had he seen them burying the soldiers? Would he report it to the Fort? All manner of questions ran through her mind, but she slowly calmed herself and willed herself not to worry. Worry could kill.
"It ain't deep enough," Joshua sighed, his chin resting on the end of the shovel as he surveyed their work much later.
"It doesn't matter. It'll have to do. I'm just too tired to go on."
"He seen us, Katherine." Josh nodded toward the ridge.
"Yeah, I know. It's a wonder he hasn't come down to ask about it. I wonder why he hasn't?"
"Maybe we should have burned them." Joshua glanced at her.
"I don't think so. Pa said once that the bones don't usually disappear when you burn them, and we'd still have to bury that part. This will have to do. I'm just too exhausted to go on. We'll throw some hay on top and disguise it. Maybe it'll be a while before we hear from anyone."
"Yeah sure." Joshua looked about. "Maybe there won't be any animals come smelling about either. This isn't going to work. We gotta dig it deeper."
Katherine glanced at Joshua, her hands on her hips, her mouth set firmly into a frown. She was tired of his negative replies. Her own strength was slipping. She needed support not more maybes.
"You gotta a better idea?" Her voice was bitter. "I'm simply too tired to dig any longer. The earth is hard as rock."
"I know." He frowned.
"Then let's scatter the hay. I'll have another look at the scout." She turned to leave him. She saw Hawks ride away again. He'd seen them; he was bound to know they were burying soldiers. So why hadn't he come snooping? It made no sense. He seemed to know everything else they did. Why not this?
"What's his name?" Josh broke through her reverie.
"I don't know. They called him a scout, is all I know. Guess he'll tell us soon enough."
"What are you gonna do with him?"
Katherine whirled about, her skirt flying; "I'm not going to do anything with him. I'm nursing him back to health, that's all."
"Then what?"
Joshua wanted answers, she had none. She was tired, weary, and disgusted with her life. She had no answers. She only knew she couldn't let the man die. Not after he saved her.
"We'll just have to wait and see, Joshua." She shook her head at his intense glance. "Well what did you want me to do, let him die? Do you honestly want to become a murderer?"
Joshua flinched from her words. "I guess not," he added his head going down.
Katherine marched to her brother's side, grabbed him to her, the first time she had touched him since before her parents took sick. He didn't move, didn't give an inch, but he was crying. Thank God! At least he was letting something out. He cursed himself for the action, but she only held him more tightly. She held on to him for a long time, both absorbing what strength they could from each other.
"If they'd have touched you, I'd have murdered them myself," He muttered, his voice sounding more like a child than a man.
Katherine smiled against his shoulder,(.) "I know. I'm a little surprised the scout could or would help me with his hands tied. Or even that he would attempt to. He can't be as bad as they said he was." Katherine shook her head and pulled away to look at her brother.
"Is he Indian?"
"Part."
"A breed?" Josh frowned again.
Katherine stared at her brother in horror. "He's a man, that's all. From this moment on, words like breed are not a part of
us, Josh."
Josh stared for a long moment and then nodded. Something in his expression looked sad. She didn't understand that sadness, but she put it away from her.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Joshua straightened and wiped at his eyes.
"What happened to Mr. Bowlins?"
"One of the soldiers shot him when they moved toward me. He tried to help me."
"Damn. I always liked that old man. I like him even more now. I buried him proper, over there." He nodded toward his parents graves. Both their heads turned at once, and then bent. The tiny graves of their sisters were enough to make anyone cry.
Katherine had forgotten about Mr. Bowlins. It was no wonder Joshua hadn't finished the task.
"Good. We should say a few words over him." Katherine sighed heavily. "It's the Christian thing to do."
"Are we Christians?" He asked childlike then explained, "I mean, after all that we've seen and done, and said..."
"'Course we are." She glanced at him with compassion. "We believe in God, don't we? We'll ask forgiveness of our sins. God knows what we've been through. He understands."
"I guess."
"Jesus died for our sins, Joshua, Mama read to us from the Bible all the time. Don't you remember any of it?"
"I was younger, then."
She nodded, "Look, there's nothing to be ashamed of. And we'll confess aloud." She nodded. "Mama raised us to be God fearin' and that's what we are, Joshua."
"I don't know no words to say." Joshua looked confused.
"It don't matter, I do. Come on. He deserves something."
They both moved together toward the gravesite. Katherine held Joshua's arm tightly as they neared as though hanging on to the last thread of sanity left.
After a moment of quiet, Katherine looked at the graves, then at her brother.
"Lord," she murmured toward the cloudless sky. "Some good people died here. Hard workin', God fearin' people. Take note of it. I don't know lovely words to say, but I reckon you do. I'd appreciate your help. Me and Joshua we have work to do. So we'll lay it in your hands. Forgive us for what we had to do. And thanks. God rest their souls, Amen."
"Amen."
They stood there in the late afternoon sun as though totally unaware of the heat of the day. Too tired to move.
"Let's get on with it," Katherine said finally able to move again.
As Joshua hurried scattering the hay about the barn, Katherine went inside. After starting supper, she went into the bedroom to check on the scout.
He was sleeping. Some of the cover slipped off his chest exposing him to her again. Funny, but as she had worked to pull the bullet from him, she forced herself not to notice him. That was no longer the case. She felt drawn to him, as though he and he alone held some sort of key to her life existence. She felt an unknown strength in just being with him. She didn't understand it, but she didn't question it either.
Strange, unwanted feelings swamped Katherine. She tried to tell herself it was because he helped her that she was feeling this urge to be close to him. Yet, somehow she knew it went deeper. He was the man from her dream and it had to mean something. Her eyes swept over him. Something deep within her stirred to life. Never had such a feeling come upon her. It scared her, yet it somehow comforted her. She was still human, after all.
His chest gleamed a golden brown. He had muscles bulging from his arms and his broad chest tapered to a slim waist and hips.
She pulled the quilt up over him again and started to move away, but his hand reached for hers and wouldn't let go. He wasn't conscious, but he wouldn't let go. His color looked good. She felt his forehead noting a fever coming up. Panic boiled in the pit of her stomach. Fever, the very word sent her into near hysteria. She couldn't go through a fever again.
At first Katherine started to resist his hand, but she felt an immediate warmth flow into her body. As though he were willing her the strength to go on. What a strange sensation holding hands could be. Was he giving her strength even now?
Joshua clanged things in the yard for a long while then she heard him come in. She heard him pour water into the washbasin and she gently put the scout's hand on his chest. A shaking finger ran loosely down his cheek before she darted away.
"Are you hungry?" Katherine asked as she cleaned up the mess from the afternoon and glanced at her brother. She threw the bloody rags into the fire.
"A little," Joshua answered dully. "How's the scout?"
"He's resting, but he's got a little fever."
Joshua flinched from the word too.
Katherine nodded, dully. "We'll eat, and then tend to him."
"I fed and watered the horses. Got one that's lame."
"One of ours?"
"No, it belonged to Mr. Bowlins. I wrapped it good and I'll check him again later." After a short silence he added, "I guess they are all ours now, now that Mr. Bowlins…"
Katherine nodded. "How many to the good?"
"Eleven." Joshua looked at her as she set the table and they sat down to eat.
"We'll need another."
"You expect me to go mustangin' while that heathen is here?" Joshua shouted banging his fork against the table.
"No Joshua," Katherine replied steadily. "I don't. We'll go together, when he leaves. And Josh... The man saved me; he deserves more respect than calling him a heathen. It isn't right to judge a man we don't know."
"What if he don't leave, what if he dies?" Joshua's eyes were big and full of questions, fears.
"He's not going to die." Katherine refused that idea.
"How do you know? You're no doctor. You couldn't save Ma and Pa, could you? You couldn't save Sally and Sarah, could you?"
"No, I couldn't." She choked on her own words. "I tried. I tried everything I knew. Nothing worked."
"Then how do you know so much about this?"
"I just do," Katherine said in the surprisingly same steady voice her mother used many times to calm the children. "Trust me Josh. Everything is going to be all right."
"It ain't natural to be so strong all the time, Katherine. Why don't you cry like most females? Why you gotta act so strong?" Josh stared at her long and hard.
Where the calm came from she didn't know. Nothing inside her felt calm anymore. Turmoil boiled inside her, festering like a mean sore. She was sure of nothing. But she knew she couldn't tell Joshua. She was still the oldest, the responsible one.
"I never chased Mustangs before," Joshua's voice smoothed and he looked excited for the first time as he spoke of it.
Katherine smiled, "neither have I."
Joshua frowned. "Then how we gonna get it done? We don't know anything about catchin' wild horses. Let's face it, we're gonna die, right here in this godforsaken desert. If the Comanche don't get us, the fever, the weather, or outlaws will. Or that dang Hawks will. Why our folks came to this country I'll never understand. Why he watches us everyday I don't know. I'm a stupid kid, cause I don't have answers for nothin'."
"You don't like it here?" Katherine couldn't stop the surprise from spilling from her voice. Not that there was much to like, but it was home, nonetheless.
"It's a hellhole," Joshua said then looked at her directly. His face looked full of hopelessness. "Well, it is."
"It's our home," She affirmed. "And I'll not have you talk that way."
A sudden quiet spread through the room, only the lonely whistling of the wind echoed. The wind seemed to pick up and all manner of sounds made clattering noises from outside. Katherine had never grown used to the howling of the wind. It gave off such a lonely sound.
Then suddenly there was a loud thump from the bedroom.
Chapter Eight
The smell of blood made his lip curl. Blue Coats. Where were the Bluecoats?
He tried to get up. But the wound was too fresh and he fell to the floor. He winced with the pain silently as he scrambled to stand once more. He must find the woman; make sure she was all right. If those no-goods got a hold of her, he'd kill them. She'd been t
hrough so much. He had listened to her story at the table and his heart went out to her through all the pain in her voice. Not only that, but she was the woman of his dreams, he knew it. He'd found her. And nothing would stop him now from getting her to her people. The only people she had left.
She thought all was lost. She had no idea there was another life she must know.
He remembered her with such clarity and an unexplainable softness from her. In his dream, she was so untouchable and sweet, and in life, she was vibrant and he saw the potential of womanhood in her. He had not seen such beauty from a woman before. Not the refined beauty of some of the soldier's wives. Not the natural beauty from White Dove his Indian maiden, but a beauty from within that was hard to put to words. A strange beauty seemed to come from within her. A quiet beauty and something more. This woman looked at him as though she knew him. And he her. But he knew she was from his dreams and Burning Tree put her there. They were one and before long she would know this. He was well pleased with her too, for she was like him. Very brown with her bright almost golden eyes hinting at a smile that never touched her lips. She was like an unanswered prayer.
The door suddenly flew open and the woman and boy he'd seen with the horses came in.
"You must stay in bed," the woman cautioned.
"You are not harmed?" The scout asked, his eyes going over her thoroughly undaunted by his crippling wound.
She blushed and he could almost smile at such a naive gesture from a woman. He recognized her virtue.
"Yes, I'm fine. I didn't realize you spoke English. What is your name?" She asked as she helped him.
"My name is Chase Rivers."
"Chase Rivers," she repeated putting his arm around her shoulder and dragging him back towards the bed once more.
"Well Chase Rivers. I am Katherine Hightower and this is my brother Joshua. Now, you should stay in bed for a while, till you've gained your strength." The woman said in the voice that haunted his dreams. He heard her, somehow, someway; he heard her voice in his own darkness. This truly was the woman in the dream. Her voice reached out to him even now.