by Rita Hestand
"Get down and stay down."
"What is it? What's wrong?" She asked crouching into the corner, her eyes wide and fear decorating her face.
"Comanches."
Katherine nodded woodenly, "What do they want?"
"The horses."
"No!" She nearly screamed.
He cast her a quick frown and pushed her. "Would you rather die?"
"If I have to...those horses are the only thing keeping the station operating."
"They may be the only thing keeping you alive right now."
"I can't give them up."
"You don't have a choice," Chase said and didn't glance back at her. He was watching.
For a moment she was still, but then as though it dawned on her, she crawled to the chest in the far corner and lifted out a rifle. She loaded it and scrambled to Chase's side.
"I'll help!" She announced.
Chase Rivers eyed her, and then grabbed the gun. "You will stay in the corner where I put you. These are Comanche and you don't want to be caught by one."
He stood straight and walked to the door. He stopped and turned to look at her. His gaze lingered on her. His loin tightened. "If I do not come back, use the rifle..."
She grabbed her mouth to keep from gasping aloud.
The coldness of his words ran through her and she went to the corner of the room again. She watched as Chase bolted all but one window then motioned to Joshua in the barn. Obviously Joshua saw and heard too for he closed the barn door.
Chase nodded, a smart young man.
As he walked out of the cabin he noted the chief and motioned in sign language that he came in peace. The Indians didn't move.
He spoke to them for a long time and Katherine wondered what he said. Had Chase bargained for their lives? Had he promised them the horses?
Her answer came when she saw Joshua leading the horses out of the barn and toward the Indians.
She bit her tongue to keep from screaming out to him, for she knew it was no use. They would all die...but to give up the horses.
The chief nodded to another of the Indians who jumped down from his horse and grabbed the reins. He led the horses behind them and after several long minutes, Chase made another sign and walked away from them.
They rode away.
Chase Rivers walked into the room again, followed quickly by her brother. Joshua looked guiltily at her.
"It was the only way." Josh said quietly not daring to look straight at Katherine.
"They were Comanche and they wanted only our horses. They will not return. They mean us no harm."
"How can you be so sure," she asked as a strange weariness overcame her.
"To a Comanche a horse is a prize. They value them. We gave them up without a fight. They will leave us alone. Had we refused, they would have killed us and took them."
"You seem to know them well?"
Katherine eyed Chase waiting for his answer.
"I do. They were from my old tribe. Their chief raised me. That is another reason they will not be back."
"Why didn't you go with them?"
"Because I would not be welcome in their tribe any longer. I became a scout for the bluecoats and they hate them. Now they hate me."
"Then why didn't they kill you?" She couldn't stop the curiosity building inside her.
"Because I was once their blood brother and raised in their camp. They will not kill me, only disown me."
Katherine considered his words. "Where is your real family?"
Chase eyed her strongly. How much could he share with her?
"My mother is a white woman. She lives with my father's tribe. I am half Shawnee, half-white. My mother lives with them because they are her family now."
Katherine gasped. "Was your mother a captive?"
"Yes." He seemed to be tiring of her questions but she couldn't stop. She needed to know more of this strange man. "She was captured long ago, the chief took her as his wife, and I was born before she'd been captive a year. She was rescued once, but refused to leave her Indian husband and family."
"If you are half Shawnee, how did you end up with the Comanches?"
"They captured me during a raid. I was twelve. My mother is with the Shawnee. The Chief of the Comanche chose to raise me as his own. Knowing of their ways, I adapted well, but a woman such as you wouldn't survive it. If a Shawnee captures a white, they are then part of the Shawnee family, they take the place of the dead or lost of the tribes. If a Comanche captures a white, they will either kill them from vengeance, raise them as their own, or simply make slaves of them. A lot depends on their personality. If the captive doesn't respond to their ways, they are put to death or traded. But with Shawnee, you are family, you remain family unless you are disgraced."
"Then you were lucky the chief took you in?" Katherine sighed.
"I worked hard to achieve his admiration. That is only life, Katherine. Wars, some are won, and some are lost. The chief took me in. Treated like a son, with honor and respect because I chose not to die, like my mother at first. She was kind to them and had a good heart. She soon fell in love with my father, the chief. My mother had a child with an Indian chief, she could not return to the white settlement; they wouldn't have accepted her even though she had a white husband. The Shawnee accepted her as family. And so she is Shawnee now. Comanche might trade you for a horse or a gun. There is much difference."
"The Comanche…did they...love you?" Katherine's eyes rounded with wonder.
"They accepted me. It is hard to understand this word…love…in Comanche. They respected me because I worked hard to prove myself worthy."
"And now they don't..."
"Now they don't." He moved to the table and grabbed a piece of bread and a tankard of water. He ate in silence.
"Do you miss them?"
"No, although I learned much from them, I do not consider them my people. I am Shawnee."
"And white…"
"And…white." Then he looked up at them. "You will gather only what you can carry. We will leave this place, tomorrow."
"I...I..."
"We will leave," He insisted firmly.
Chapter Eleven
It was mid afternoon when Chase saw the dust flying in a straight line for the station. He knew the dangers. It might be soldiers, for Indians wouldn't be that obvious. Besides, he had pacified the Comanche with the horses. They wouldn't be back as long as the soldiers didn't stay here. They had to get rid of the soldiers.
He sheathed his big knife and stood tall. His shirt was in the house and the sun bore down hard on his back. He was healing and that was good.
He shielded his eyes and then slowly walked into the cabin. Katherine was heating food for the evening meal over the open pit. He looked at her and the unfamiliar feeling of knowing her ran through him again. She drew him and he didn't understand why. Burning Tree again…he said she would come to him.
"The bluecoats are coming," he said lowly, his brows drawing, his jaw tensing, his lethal calmness disturbing her. But his words comforted her in some ways. Ways she didn't understand.
Katherine whipped about to stare into his somber eyes.
"What do we do?" She asked breathlessly, in an almost whisper. Already she trusted him and he didn't understand that either.
"You go about your work as though nothing happened." He came closer, staring into her worried eyes.
"But you...you must hide." She nearly reached to touch his chest, hesitated, and met his glance shyly, but the unease in her voice warned him of her growing fears.
"Wrap the blood soaked bandage back around me. I will lie on the bed. When they ask, you tell them I was scouting for Fort Davis and ran into the Comanche. They wounded me, and stole the horses here."
Katherine nodded and then ran to get the bandages. She quickly wrapped his wound as he lay on the bed. She jumped at every sound from outside. His hand suddenly covered hers, "Do not be afraid, little one. I will not let them harm you."
She drip
ped water on his forehead and sat at his side as she fumbled with her apron.
Her nearness distracted him.
Chase listened for the soldiers. They drove their horse's right up to the hitching post and dismounted as though all hell were after them. They pushed open the station door without bothering to knock and then walked boldly through the room, the first one with a sword drawn. Had he been alone, he would have rushed to oppose their actions, but thinking of Katherine and Josh, he tempered himself.
"Well, lookie here." The soldier shouted. "Looks like them Comanche didn't kill 'em after all." The southern accent of a Corporal whirred as a Sergeant strode past him.
In seconds another soldier entered the room, brushing aside the Sergeant. This man had rank and an unreadable stern face. He was fairly young and handsome, but totally unapproachable.
"What's happened here?" he demanded.
Out of the slits of his deep blue eyes, Chase watched their every move, waiting.
***
Katherine stood and turned to stare into the cold gray eyes of the officer who demanded answers. The Captain had immaculate blonde hair, a piercing glance, and a stubborn chin tilted to the air. Katherine thought he might be very handsome, if he would only smile.
"The Comanches, they stole my horses, and nearly killed this man." Katherine managed in a breathless whisper.
"Who is he?" The officer demanded, his nose curling at the edge with distaste. An icy chill hung on his words.
"I don't know, really. We think he came from Fort Davis, but that's all I could get out of him before he collapsed. I think he's a scout."
"He's not from Fort Davis, but that doesn't matter. He probably is a scout, from the looks of him. Damn renegade." The officer shuffled his feet. "We were to meet the stage. It was carrying a prisoner. Any idea where it might be?"
"It's overdue...I know that." Katherine felt herself tremble and it annoyed her to be so vulnerable to this officer. She turned to the kitchen as her defense.
It seemed all soldiers had preformed ideas about scouts, but yet, when needed they didn't hesitate to use them. She shot him a hostile glare at his back.
"And your name Miss...?"
"Katherine Hightower." She stood straight and went around him to meet him eye to eye. "My brother Joshua is in the barn, cleaning the stalls. Although, there isn't much need of it now."
"You run this station?" the commanding officer asked with a cold and impersonal voice.
"I do now. My parents died. I've taken it over. I figured Mr. Butterfield would appreciate me attending it, 'till he could find a proper replacement." She hated being under obligation to answer this man's questions, but what could she do?
"I'm sure he would, under the circumstances." The officer took his gloves off, dusted them on his other hand and set them neatly upon the end of the table before moving toward the stove. He acted with an air of authority, as though it was his business to know what she had to offer him and his men. He inhaled the aroma of stew, his facial expression beginning to relax. "My men and I are quite hungry. We've been riding for days. I'll send some of them out to search the perimeter and you will come along to the fort. It isn't safe here anymore. Undoubtedly the stage has met with some trouble as the Butterfield is always on time."
"I'll fix you something to eat, sir," Katherine said and moved past them to the stew pot. "I have stew, it's meager but nourishing, and some cornbread."
"That'll do just fine," He said glancing first at her and then the stew once more. He ordered the second soldier to bed their animals and wash up.
"I am Captain Reynolds, Miss Hightower, from Fort Davis."
Katherine knew not to show any signs of fear or worry. She silently willed her hands not to shake, her voice not to break. But she was in combat with an inner turmoil. She was worried how long they might stay. What they might see and do. She wondered if anyone was snooping about the barn. She knew instinctively she had to get rid of them, but how? They wanted her to leave her home too. She couldn't just walk away from it, no matter the danger.
"You've blood on your dress, how'd that happen?" The Captain asked.
She started to answer but Chase mumbled distracting the Captain as he came to stand over him.
"How long's he been like that?" The officer came to stand in front of Chase.
"Most of the day." Katherine glanced at Chase and his hand fisted. She went over to him, wiped his brow with a rag, and touched his hand. It relaxed. She could feel the tension flowing from Chase every time the officer came close or asked a question.
"Guess it's a good thing he was here," the officer said eyeing her carefully.
"He wasn't here. We found him, a ways out, while looking for the stage." She rushed to explain.
Did he not believe her? She couldn't fret about him. She needed to keep calm. Keep everyone calm.
"Is he able to travel?" The officer eyed her carefully.
"Travel?" It was her one hope. "No sir. It would kill him. I'm sure of that. We've just now stopped the bleeding. I barely got the bullet out of him."
The officer eyed her carefully as she dished up a meal to him and his men. His skepticism floated about her on every answer, as though he were weighing it. She wondered if all men of authority carried such an air of disbelief.
"That can't be helped; I won't leave a woman and a boy alone out here. It would be murder with the Comanche so close on our heels. We were in a minor skirmish yesterday. Although he might be of service to the army, I can't sacrifice you for him," The officer acknowledged as he ate.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but he cannot be moved." Katherine insisted, "Being a Christian I won't have his death on my conscious. After all, Captain, he is a scout for your army."
The officer looked from her to Chase Rivers. "Very well, if you are determined to nurse this man to health, then I will leave a couple of soldiers here and you will follow as soon as he is able."
Katherine didn't know what to say. The Captain was only being considerate, but she couldn't understand why. He questioned everything.
"I'm sure they won't attack here once we are gone. Especially since you have given them your horses." The officer smirked.
"I certainly didn't want to give them my horses, Captain," Katherine added, not liking the way he spoke of it. Her uneasiness grew as his eyes pinned her.
"No…of course you didn't." He stared at her and then glanced down at her skirt. "Now…Why is there blood on your dress?" He asked, his brows knitting together as his eyes traveled her.
Her eyes followed his to the hemline of her skirt, where all manner of blood had splattered. She looked the Captain in the eye and replied. "Killed a rattlesnake earlier, and dug a bullet out of that man's chest not long ago," she replied steadily. "I didn't have time to change and I only have one other dress. It's for Sunday."
He stared then nodded, as though he had to distract himself from her.
"I'm sure you didn't want to give them your horses, miss, but it probably saved your life as the Comanche value horses more than people." He ate slowly almost methodically as though his mind and appetite were worlds apart; some of his men joined him at the table. "But the sad fact is, you gave them your horses and you cannot run a station without them. So your livelihood here is ruined by your own hands." All of them seemed hungry; some of them eyed her with interest. Katherine felt their stares. At least their stares were different from the other soldiers.
Her first contact with soldiers hadn't been a pleasant experience and she couldn't stop feeling the unease creeping upon her once more, only not for the same reason. Was he accusing her of something? It sounded so. The Captain was a suspicious man.
Chase Rivers barely moved, but the slits of his eyes followed them. He was watching, waiting. She could see the anger in his tensed muscles, she recognized it. It was like hers, slowly festering.
Not wanting any more blood shed, she felt she had to get rid of the soldiers. But how?
Soldiers came running into the station
. "Beggin' your pardon sir, but looks like we might have found the stage..."
"Where...?" The Captain demanded.
"About a mile down the road sir, looks like it's been attacked by Comanche, sir." One young soldier said.
"Very good, Corporal. Ma'am, I'm going to be taking the majority of my men up the road to investigate. I'll expect you ready to leave here by tomorrow evening." He tipped his hat and turned to go. "I'll station a couple of men outside."
"I'll try..."
"No ma'am, you will...." he insisted casting her a curious glance over his shoulder. "Now, exactly where is that stage, Corporal?"
He left a young soldier at the door, guarding it.
Katherine went to Chase's side, "They've left a guard outside." she whispered.
"Only one?" he asked.
"I don't know for sure," she answered going toward the window and glancing about the yard. Returning to his side she shook her head. "There's another at the barn."
He pulled his knife out and she gasped, "You can't mean to kill them".
"Only if I have to Katherine, I do not kill for pleasure," he replied looking intently at her. "If they get too noisy and ask too many questions, I will have to deal with them. The Captain should count himself lucky that I did not rip his acid tongue out."
She cast her glance downward, in regret, "I was so afraid I'd say the wrong thing. He kept needling me."
"And that is why he was almost a dead man. A man who cannot recognize the truth is a man to do battle with. Even his men are smarter. Did you really kill a snake?" Chase smiled.
"I did. I cut him into small pieces." She chortled.
How she had become an ally for this man she didn't know, but she trusted him instinctively. Perhaps because he saved her or perhaps because when she looked into his eyes she saw so much more there than a woman should see in a stranger's eye. As though he were no stranger at all.
The old soldier near the barn was helping Joshua and once he seemed satisfied with the work, he came inside. "You got some more of that grub, ma'am?" he called to Katherine.