Knight in a Black Hat

by Judith B. Glad

  Malachi swung her into his arms. "You're plumb worn out, aren't you?"

  For an instant, Nellie resisted his embrace. He seemed so cool, so remote, nothing like the man who'd welcomed her with open arms only minutes ago. And he'd done nothing to defend her from Uncle's scolding. Then she relaxed. She could have walked to the lake, but if she didn't have to, she wouldn't complain.

  "You can tell me the whole story," he said, when they were halfway between the corral and the tents. "And no nonsense about a nice old lady who didn't harm a hair on your head." From the tone of his voice, he was furiously angry.

  "The whole--" Nellie struggled, but might as well have saved her energy. He held her securely against his chest. "The whole story is, Malachi Breedlove, that a woman 'stole' me. She believed you men were holding me captive and she thought she was rescuing me." Telling him of Gertie's delusions, she'd decided, would serve no good purpose.

  "Oh, Malachi, it's so heart-breaking. She's been here for so long, more than ten years. All alone! I feel so sorry for her."

  "You feel sorry for her? She stole you from your bed, carried you off to God only knows where--" He set her on her feet before a tent. "Good God, woman! Didn't you even try to get away from her?"

  For some reason she wanted to burst into tears. At the same time, she wanted to yell at him to stop treating her like she was merely a...a thing. She needed to be taken in his arms and held. "Not exactly. It's a long, complicated story. Please, can I just tell it all at once?"

  "Your pack's over there." He held the flap wide so she could see.

  Nellie loosened the ties of her pack and dug inside. Shortly she had unearthed fresh underthings, a clean skirt and blouse, and her next-to-last pair of undarned stockings. She dug again. "Where are my boots?"

  "Just a minute." He let the flap drop and came inside, a dark shadow in the dim interior.

  Nellie watched, curious, as he leaned down and opened the saddlebag that lay beside his bedroll.

  "Here they are."

  She looked up at him. Even in the shadowy tent, she could see the deep lines beside his mouth, the hollows in his cheeks that had not been there before. But his expression, what she could see of it, was forbidding, and the question she had been about to ask died on her lips.

  Once again he bent down. "Here's a towel and soap," he said. "Do you need anything else?"

  "No. No, this will do."

  As he slipped out through the tent flap, she noticed, for the first time, that he wore handguns in tied-down holsters, one on each hip. Without thinking, she said, "They know who you are." It was the only reason she could conceive for him to openly go armed.

  "They do now." His tone told her not to ask for explanations. "Who was the woman who took you? Why did she?"

  "Her name is Gertie. She and her husband came here a long time ago. He was searching for gold. Then he disappeared, and she was left all alone. She believed I was in danger. Now, may I have my bath?"

  Once again he swept her off her feet, but Nellie sensed no tenderness in his embrace. Just matter-of-fact assistance, such as he would offer any injured member of the party. Fuming, she lay quietly in his arms. She'd known that Uncle wouldn't welcome her back, but she'd hoped....

  Well, if he was going to be that way, she'd not make a nuisance of herself. And she would not tell the men any more about Gertie than was necessary. It would be just like them to decide she was dangerous. Then they'd hunt her down like a dangerous animal. Or they'd do their best to prevent Nellie from ever seeing her again.

  Instead of going straight to where she could see water glimmering through the trees, he veered left. Nellie soon saw why. A screen of willows concealed a small cove from anyone standing on the bank. She would be able to bathe all over. Thank goodness. I don't think I could have gotten clean any other way.

  Malachi stepped aside and let her go through the shrubs. "I'll stand guard. Just don't be too long. Supper'll be ready soon."

  Don't you care that I'm back, either? she wanted to cry. Are you no more happy to see me than Uncle was?

  His joy when she'd run into his arms had been spontaneous, but now he seemed to regret it. Perhaps I should have stayed with Gertie. I was welcome there.

  Fighting the lump that threatened to close her throat, Nellie removed her filthy clothing. Although she would have liked to burn the lot, she laid it aside. Tomorrow she would wash it all, even the coat.

  The water was warm in the shallows but still she shivered as she splashed into the lake. After combing the worst of the tangles from her hair with her fingers, she soaped it and scrubbed until her scalp tingled. Before rinsing, she used the suds to wash her face, knowing it would take more than one application to remove the grease and dried mud. After applying more soap to her hair, she piled the sodden mass on top of her head while she scrubbed her body.

  Once clean, she dunked again and again, until her skin felt smooth and free from soap. She ran her fingers through her now-squeaky hair before twisting it into a coil that she anchored on top of her head with a smooth twig from the shore. Then she sat down on the sandy lake bottom, submerged up to her neck, and just reveled in the soothing pressure of cool water against her skin, the early evening sounds of birds in the pines, and the serene view across the lake. For the first time in many days, she felt safe and at peace.

  Well, almost. She still had to tell everyone else what had happened to her. And she didn't want to. They wouldn't understand. Couldn't possibly.

  I'm not certain I understand myself. All I know is that I feel a curious affection for that peculiar old woman.

  "You about done?"

  "Not quite," she called back. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "Malachi, come closer. So I won't have to shout."

  The willows rustled, and he appeared from behind them, carefully not looking toward her. "What?"

  "I don't want to have to tell what happened over and over. If I tell you all about it, can you tell the others?"

  "If you'll tell me everything, without any roundaboutation."

  Oh, goodness! He still thinks I'm hiding something. "I have told you. I want you to tell the others because I'm tired and confused, and I simply don't want to have to put up with their curiosity and sympathy. I just know they'll keep badgering me, wanting to know more and more, and I...I just don't feel up to it." To her horror, the last words came out on a rising note, and she felt tears well up.

  "Nellie, you can trust me. I won't tell them anything you don't want them to know."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake! Nothing happened that I wouldn't shout to the whole world. I just don't want to dwell on it. Can't you understand?" She buried her face in her hands, not sure whether the tightness in her throat was a sign of incipient tears or hysterical laughter. Now that she was safely home, she didn't seem to have any starch left. Forcing herself to look steadily at him, she said, in as calm a voice as she could muster, "I was not raped. I was not beaten, or starved, or any other horrible torture. Gertie fed me, and gave me a warm bed, and took very good care of me.

  "She took me because she was lonely, and when I asked her to bring me back, she did." She swallowed once, twice. "Now, if you will just turn around, I'll come out and get dressed."

  Not moving, he stared at her a long time, apparently trying to read the truth in her face. Nellie stared back, willing him to believe her.

  "All right," he said at last. "I'll tell them." He turned his back.

  "Thank you." Nellie pulled the twig from her topknot and dunked again. After wringing most of the water from her hair, she splashed to shore and picked up the towel. Its coarse fibers left her skin feeling abraded after a vigorous rubbing, making her long for some of the soothing pomatum she had secreted away among her clothing. Never again would she take bathing for granted.

  Malachi was waiting, leaning against a pine, his spine straight with tension, his gaze moving, ever moving, as if danger could come from any direction at any time. His rifle was cradled in the crook of one elbow and the t
humb of his other hand was hooked into his pants pocket, close to the handle of one gun. He looked cold and hard and dangerous.

  Nellie shivered again, although the evening air still held summer's heat.

  "Has anything exciting happened while I was away?" she said as they walked back toward the tents. Inane conversation was better than this brooding silence.

  "Willard and Murphy searched for you from dawn to dark every day," he said, biting the words off as if they were bitter.

  She wanted to ask what he'd been doing while they were searching. Instead she said, "I'll have to thank them."

  They went the rest of the way to the common tent in a pregnant silence. Nellie had so many questions she wanted to ask, but was almost afraid of the answers.

  Malachi was surprised that the professor kept his mouth shut during supper. He couldn't decide if the man was going to ignore Nellie's disappearance as if it hadn't happened or if he was building up a good head of steam. Either way, he decided he wouldn't leave her alone with her uncle.

  Sure enough, once they'd finished eating, Dr. Kremer said, "Nellie, come to my tent. I want to talk to you." He rose, setting his plate aside for someone else to take care of, and walked away.

  Nellie took one last bite--Malachi noticed that her plate was still half full--and jumped to her feet. "Mr. Willard, would you keep this warm, please?"

  "Sit down," Malachi said. "Finish your supper."

  "Oh, no, I can't. I mean, I'm not really hungry right now. I'll eat--"

  He gentled his voice. "Nellie, sit down. There's no reason why he can't wait a few minutes. He's not going anywhere tonight."

  She hesitated, then sat back onto the section of log that served as a seat. After another couple of bites, she again handed the plate to Willard. "I really can't...I've had enough." She jumped to her feet. "You don't understand," she said to Malachi. "I must go." Before he could stop her again, she was heading toward Dr. Kremer's tent.

  "Go with her," Willard said, but Malachi was already on his way.

  He stayed just outside the tent. For all he knew, the professor might be wanting to know what had happened to Nellie. Not likely. He wasn't worried that she was gone. Only inconvenienced.

  At first all he could hear from inside was a tapping, like the professor was drumming his fingers on the table. Malachi was certain he did that to get folks' goats.

  "Well?" Dr. Kremer said at last. "I am waiting for an explanation."

  "There is nothing to explain. I was invited to visit an elderly woman who lives in the neighborhood and I could not refuse."

  Good for her. Malachi had been afraid she'd apologize for inconveniencing her uncle, and instead she passed off her disappearance as an everyday occurrence. He leaned closer to the tent wall, not wanting to miss a word.

  "You disappeared without explanation. Those fools believed you'd been taken against your will. They wasted days--days!--searching for you. Have you any notion how far behind that set me?

  "And another thing. You know that Beckett can't write as legible a hand as you do. I had to depend on him to get my notes copied, and now I'll never be able to decipher them. But you never thought about that, did you? "

  Malachi could imagine her shaking her head. Why doesn't she stand up for herself?

  "Of course you didn't. Just as you didn't give a thought to what you were asking when you pleaded to come along this summer. Why I ever let you join this expedition, I will never know. Women have no place in the field, as I told your aunt every time she asked to accompany me. You've been nothing but a hindrance the entire time..."

  You can't have it both ways, old man. Either she's indispensable or she's a bother. He clenched his fists, wanting to go in and shake some sense into the professor.

  "Are you done, Uncle?"

  "Don't be impertinent! Now that you're back, I will not countenance your leaving camp again. It seems like every time you do, you get into mischief. God knows, there's enough for you to do here, what with making sure my collections are packed carefully for the journey out, and keeping the blotters dried, and transcribing my notes. Oh, yes, and that reminds me, I will have your journal, so I can see what a mess you've made of your own collecting data. Bradley--or Braidlove, or whatever he's calling himself today--he would not give it to me. Self-important, that's what he is. I thought he was far too young and inexperienced to lead this expedition when I first saw him, and he's done nothing to change my mind."

  "He's not--"

  "Don't interrupt me! Now, starting tomorrow you will report to me each morning for an assignment of your day's duties. They will include taking care of that young fool, Ernst. He was foolish enough to get himself shot and he's all but useless now. Bradley's been refusing to take me far afield because one man was needed to stay in camp. Now you can do that, and I'll be able to go where I want."

  The drumming began again, and Malachi figured it was time to interrupt. "Miss Sanders?" he called, "can you come out here a minute?"

  "No she cannot, Bradley. She's busy."

  Malachi stepped through the tent flap. The professor, as he'd expected, sat behind his small table like a king on his throne. Nellie stood before him, her head hanging, her shoulders slumped.

  "Dr. Kremer, it's getting late, and I need your niece to tell me what gear she wants in her tent and what I can leave stored in the big one. Didn't you say you wanted to go across the river tomorrow?" It was the best bait he'd been able to think of.

  "Across the river? But you said--"

  "Willard's given it some thought. He reckons that if you leave real early, you'll get across safely. And you can wait to come back after dark, now that the moon's waxing." Not that the bears paid all that much mind to sunrise and sunset. But the old fool was determined to get over on the other side of the valley again, and tomorrow was as good a time as any. Give Nellie a chance to rest up, wash her clothes like she'd said.

  "Well, it's about time, I must say. We've left it so long that I'm inclined to stay several days, if we can find a decent place to camp."

  Malachi jerked his chin towards the entrance, hoping Nellie would get away while she could. "I'm sure we could arrange for you to stay out overnight at least. You think about it and I'll check back later." No harm in making a show of cooperation about something he'd already made up his mind to do. There would be plenty more times he had to butt heads with Dr. Kremer. He turned, as if to leave, then looked back. "Of course, your start would be delayed if we had to pack for a longer stay."

  Nellie was still standing, hesitant, at the entrance. He nudged her toward the entrance.

  "Nellie, don't forget to bring me your journal."

  "You won't have time to read anything tonight, professor," Malachi reminded him. "Not if we want to get an early start tomorrow."

  "Of course. Well, then, have it ready for my perusal when I return, Nellie. Without fail."

  "Yes, Uncle," she said, as she yielded to Malachi's push.

  He guided her toward his tent. As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, "Why do you let him treat you like that?"

  "Most of the time I don't even notice it," she said. "or I didn't. Tonight, for some reason, I was ready to scream at him."

  "Maybe you should."

  "I daren't anger him too much. As long as he's in charity with me, there's a chance he'll give me credit as his assistant."

  "And that's so important you let him walk all over you?"

  Her sigh shamed him. He knew how much she wanted to be recognized as a real botanist.

  "That's just Uncle's way. He doesn't mean to be unkind."

  "I'd hate to see him when he did," Malachi muttered. When she asked him what he'd said, he shook his head. The way she humbled herself troubled him, but he recognized there was nothing he could do about it. Not without taking liberties she hadn't granted him.

  They stopped by the common tent to get her bedroll and a small leather case, then went on in silence. He still wondered what she was holding back--her story was too
simple, too easy--but he kept his mouth shut. She'd told him all she was going to, and that was that. Nellie Sanders could probably teach a mule stubborn.

  His tent was set up on the opposite side of the common tent from all the others. Malachi didn't like having her out on the edge like that, but it was better than having her where she had to traipse through the middle of camp in her nightgown to get to the necessary. They had dug a latrine area back in the trees, and now they'd have to build some kind of brush screen, to give her some privacy.

  "Thank you for lending your tent," she told him when they'd reached it. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

  "Not at all. We'll all worry less if you're safely inside."

  "Well then--" Whatever she'd started to say was lost in a convulsive swallow. "I've very tired," she said, not looking at him. "I think I'll retire now."

  He resisted the impulse to take her into his arms. He had responsibilities. And she seemed...fragile.

  "Good night, then."

  "Good night, Malachi."

  Had her voice caught on a sob? He stood there until she'd gone inside, hating the necessity to act the leader, rather than the lover.

  Although he'd hardly been able to keep his eyes open over supper, once he was undressed, Malachi lay under the tarp he'd strung, unable to stop the questions spinning inside his head.

  I wasn't a captive...invited to visit an elderly woman...no more need for concern....

  She hadn't gone willingly, and she hadn't stayed because she chose to. He'd bet his bottom dollar on that. Nellie would never have let herself go without bathing or doing her hair for a week or more. He had a vision of the woman in the creek, back on the other side of the mountains, nearly blue with cold, but thinking it a worthwhile price of being 'clean all over.'

  So where had she been? And who was the other woman he'd seen?

  Disgusted with himself, he turned onto his belly and kicked the blanket off his feet. Fresh, cold air wafted across his nape, sending chills down his spine. It'll frost tonight, for sure. The gibbous moon sat low in the sky over the mountains to the west, in a sky not yet totally black. The evening star shone close beside it. Malachi thought about his boyhood, when he believed that a wish made on the first star was sure to come true.