Shadow nodded. "I believe you."
Morgus Tillman's face turned ugly. "I don't give a damn what you believe, Indian," he snarled. "My little girl wouldn't lie and I don't aim to see her shamed. That boy of yours is gonna do the right thing by my girl, or else."
Shadow laughed, a short ugly laugh tinged with bitterness. "Won't marrying a half-breed shame your daughter?"
"Not as much as giving birth to a bastard," Morgus retorted. "You have that boy at my place next Sunday, or I'll come after him again, and this time I'll finish what I started tonight."
"Morgus." Shadow's voice stopped the big man in his tracks. "If you ever lay a hand on my son, or anyone else in my family again, I will strip the skin from your bones an inch at a time."
"Next Sunday," Morgus repeated tersely, and stalked out of the house.
For a moment, no one moved. Victoria looked like she might faint. Her eyes, so big and blue, never left Hawk's face. I knew she was wondering who to believe, Morgus or Hawk.
Shadow looked grim. His eyes glittered with a deep and implacable hatred that I had not seen in years, and I knew that he would not hesitate to kill Morgus Tillman if the man dared laid a hand on Hawk again.
Slowly, Hawk gained his feet and went to Victoria.
"It isn't true," he said fervently. "You must believe me."
"I want to," Victoria said, not meeting Hawk's eyes. "But I keep remembering that day in the woods. Mercy said you would come knocking at her door, just like everyone else."
"Vickie . . ."
"I don't want to believe her," Victoria said with a sob. "Tell me you never touched her, and I'll believe you. Only don't lie to me, Hawk. I couldn't stand that."
"I never touched her. I swear it."
"Oh, Hawk," Victoria cried, and buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder.
Hawk put his arms around her, wincing as the movement pulled against his torn flesh.
I looked at Shadow, standing near the fireplace, his face grim. What was he thinking? I remembered how willing everyone had been to believe Shadow was a thief just because he was an Indian. If Morgus went around telling people Hawk had raped his daughter, they would likely believe that, too, especially when it became apparent that Victoria was also pregnant.
Hawk flinched as I swabbed the cuts on his back with carbolic, and I silently raged inside, furious with the man who had dared take a belt to my son. Victoria hovered near Hawk, her face mirroring his pain.
Later, when everyone had gone to bed, Shadow and I sat together on the sofa before the fireplace.
"What are we going to do?" I asked. "He can't marry them both."
Shadow snorted. "Why should he marry Mercy Tillman? Every man old enough to crawl between her thighs has done so."
I glanced pointedly at Shadow, one eyebrow raised. "Every man?" I asked dryly.
Shadow grinned at me. "You know what I mean. Mercy probably does not know who the father is. I think she picked on Hawk because her father would be quick to believe he was guilty."
"Because he's a half-breed," I added glumly.
"Yes."
I did not like the twinge of guilt I saw lurking in Shadow's eyes. I knew what he was thinking, knew he was thinking this would never have happened if I had married a white man instead of a Cheyenne warrior.
"Don't you dare say it," I warned, my voice stern. "It's not our children who are at fault for being part Indian. It's the stupid prejudice of some people who are too blind to see what fine children we have, and nothing more. And if you dare say I should have married a white man, I'll punch you in the nose!"
Shadow laughed softly as my tirade came to an abrupt halt. "Are you through?"
"Yes, but it makes me so mad. Shadow, what are we going to do?"
"Tomorrow, you and I and Hawk will go out to the Tillman place and see Mercy. I want to hear it from her own mouth that Hawk is the father of her child. I want to hear her say it in front of Hawk."
It was shortly after noon when we arrived at the Tillman place. I was amazed that anyone would live in such a hovel.
The house, if it could be called that, was made of unfinished wood, the roof was made of sod. There were no windows; the door was hanging at an odd angle. A few chickens scratched in the dirt, a pig was asleep under a tree, several dogs were stretched out in the sun. A pair of faded overalls hung on a wash line.
Mercy was obviously surprised to see us. Her mouth made a little "o", her eyes grew wide.
"May we come in?" I asked, my nose wrinkling at the smell emanating from the inside of the house.
"Why?"
"We'd like to talk to you, Mercy, if you don't mind."
Mercy Tillman shook her head, her eyes worried as she tried to close the door. Shadow stepped forward, blocking the way, and Mercy took a step back. Hawk and I followed Shadow into the house.
It was the dirtiest place I had ever seen. Unwashed dishes were stacked on the kitchen table, a cat napped on the wood-burning stove, the furniture, what little there was, was shabby and worn.
"What do you want?" Mercy asked, sounding scared. She was dressed in a ragged red skirt; a man's shirt covered her ample breasts.
"Why did you tell your father I raped you?" Hawk's voice was tight, angry, his eyes accusing.
Mercy glanced at Shadow, who was standing against the door, his arms folded over his chest. She licked her lips nervously. "I . . . because it's true, and you've got to marry me."
"Mercy, it's a lie, and you know it."
"Hawk, please marry me. I've got to get married. I'll make you happy." She was crying now, her sobs wracking her body.
"I can't," Hawk said coldly. "Why don't you tell your father who's responsible? Or tell the father of your baby?"
Mercy shook her head, her hands worrying a lock of her hair.
Shadow stepped forward. "Mercy, who is the father of your child?"
Mercy took a step back, her fear of Shadow plain in her face. "Leave me alone."
"We both know Hawk is not the father."
"He is, he is!" she cried. "You've got to believe me!"
"Let's get out of here," Hawk said disgustedly. "She's never going to admit she's lying."
Shadow stepped closer to Mercy, and Mercy looked at me, her eyes pleading for help. "Don't let him hurt me, please!"
"Do not talk nonsense," Shadow said tersely. "I am not going to hurt you." Reaching out, he took Mercy in his arms and held her close. Mercy struggled wildly until she realized she could not escape, and then she stood passive in his arms, her attitude one of defeat. "Mercy, you would not want Hawk to marry you when he loves Victoria. You would not be happy with a man who does not love you. Have you told the father of your child that you are pregnant?"
"I don't know who it is," Mercy wailed unhappily.
My heart went out to the girl. I had never wanted to believe the stories about Mercy Tillman were true, but I believed them now.
"My father doesn't know about me," Mercy said, staring at the floor. "He thinks I'm a good girl. He'll kill me when he finds out what I've done. How can I tell him I don't know who the father is?" She looked up at Shadow, her eyes wild with fear. "Please make Hawk marry me."
"Hawk has troubles of his own," Shadow said ruefully. "He has an obligation to marry Victoria Bannerman."
Mercy frowned, and then she began to laugh hysterically. Shadow gently stroked her hair as her laughter turned to tears.
It was then that Morgus Tillman stomped into the house.
Morgus took in the scene at a glance: Mercy sobbing in Shadow's arms, Hawk staring out the window. He looked at me, and then at Shadow and Mercy.
"What the hell's goin' on here?" he roared.
Mercy jumped at the sound of her father's voice. Her face paled as she saw the rage in his eyes, and she clung to Shadow, hoping he would protect her.
Morgus glared at Shadow, his expression fierce. "No wonder you didn't want your boy to marry up with my girl," Morgus growled. "You're sweet on her yourself."
"Hah! Looks to me like the father's right here."
"Do not be a fool, Tillman," Shadow said curtly.
"A fool, am I? I'll show you who's a fool," Morgus gritted through clenched teeth. Dropping the rifle and sack he had been holding, he reached for the knife sheathed on his belt. "You dirty bastard!" He hissed, "I'll teach you to come around sniffing after my girl!"
Shadow pushed Mercy out of the way, then took a quick step to the side, his hand closing on his own knife, his dark eyes wary as he dropped into a crouch, knees slightly bent, knife arm thrust forward, stomach tucked in.
Morgus grinned as he darted a glance at Hawk. "You're next!" he growled, and lunged forward, his knife driving for Shadow's heart. I gasped as Shadow danced out of the way, his own blade striking out to nick Morgus on the arm as he stepped in range.
Morgus Tillman was a big man, solid as a tree. He was not fast, but he was determined, and my heart was in my throat as I watched Shadow and Morgus circle each other, looking for an opening. They came together in a rush, grunting with exertion as steel met steel. Tillman's reach was longer, Shadow was faster, more agile. Tillman drew blood, his knife catching Shadow just under his right arm. Shadow grunted and dodged out of the way as Tillman struck again. Shadow was ready this time, and he ducked under Tillman's knife arm and plunged the blade into Tillman's side. The big man grimaced as his free hand struck Shadow in the back, knocking him to the floor.
Hawk uttered a strangled cry as he ran toward Tillman's rifle, but Mercy got there first, and the two of them began struggling over the gun. My eyes were torn between my son and my husband. I clenched my hands, my nails biting into my palms, drawing blood, as Shadow scrambled to his feet. The two men stood facing each other, panting, bleeding, while Hawk and Mercy continued to fight over the rifle.
Suddenly Morgus rushed forward, his arms thrown wide, trapping Shadow in a bear hug. Morgus gave a cry of victory as he lifted his blade, intending to drive it into Shadow's back.
There was a sudden explosion of noise as the rifle went off, and then everything seemed to move in slow motion. Morgus took a step back, his arms falling to his sides, a blank expression on his face. Shadow fell to his knees, and I screamed as the fear became too much to bear. Mercy cried, ''Daddy, no!" and then Morgus Tillman crashed to the floor. It was then I saw the blood pumping from the wound in his back.
Mercy threw herself over her father's body, sobbing hysterically, as I rushed to Shadow's side.
"I'm all right, Hannah," Shadow said. "His blade just creased my side. It isn't serious."
I nodded, unable to speak. The wound, though not deep, was bleeding profusely. I glanced around the Tillman cabin, looking for a bit of clean cloth and found none. Hawk came to stand beside me, his dark eyes filled with concern.
"I'm all right," Shadow said. "Look after Mercy."
With a nod, Hawk went to kneel beside the girl. Gently, Hawk lifted her away from her father's body and held her in his arms while she cried, his hand stroking her blond hair while he murmured to her, assuring her that everything would work out for the best.
Turning my attention back to my husband, I tore a strip of cloth from my petticoat and wrapped it around the wound in Shadow's side, then bandaged the shallow gash under his right arm.
We took Mercy home with us. Victoria glanced worriedly at Hawk as Mercy stood uncertainly in the middle of the parlor. Mercy's eyes were still red; there were bloodstains on her skirt.
"There was an accident," Hawk explained to Victoria. "Mercy's going to stay with us for awhile."
"She's going to stay here?" Victoria exclaimed, aghast.
Mercy Tillman stiffened her spine as she glared at Victoria. "Don't give yourself airs, Victoria Bannerman," she warned. "I know all about you."
Victoria's cheeks turned scarlet. "Know what?" she asked hoarsely.
"I know all about that baby you're carrying," Mercy sneered. "You're no better than I am, after all."
"At least I know who my baby's father is," Victoria retorted cruelly. "Do you?"
"That's enough," Shadow said sternly. "I do not care how you two feel about each other, but I will not have you spitting and clawing like two cats under my roof. Is that understood?"
Victoria and Mercy nodded sullenly.
Later, Victoria and Mary prepared dinner while I took Mercy into my room to clean her up. Dressed in one of Mary's everyday cottons, her hair washed and her skin freshly scrubbed, Mercy Tillman looked like a different girl.
Dinner was a strained meal. Victoria and Mercy glared at each other, Hawk looked uncomfortable. Blackie, usually so full of chatter, was silent.
Mercy went to bed immediately after dinner. Hawk and Blackie would sleep in the lodge while Mercy stayed with us.
My father was a big help in the next few days. He helped Hawk bury Morgus Tillman in the deep woods and advised us not to say anything about the fight between Shadow and Morgus. There was no lawman in Bear Valley to ask questions that no one wanted to answer, Pa said with a shrug, and it was best to keep everything quiet.
I wasn't sure we were doing the right thing, but Mercy begged us not to tell anyone what had happened. She told people her father had died in his sleep, and no one seemed to doubt her. Few people in Bear Valley cared for Morgus Tillman. He had been a gruff, mean-spirited man, and most of those who knew him seemed relieved that he was gone.
A week later, Hawk drove Mercy to Steel's Crossing where she caught a train back East. She had a cousin there who would look after her, she said. Pa had given Mercy twenty dollars spending money, Mary had given her a couple of dresses so she would have something decent to wear, and I had packed her a lunch to take on the train. Mercy took it all as her due, offering no thanks in return. We . never heard from Mercy Tillman again.
Two days later, Hawk and Victoria were married in our parlor by the Reverend Thorsen. The Smythes, George and Ruth Tippitt, and the Browns came to the wedding, bringing gifts and good wishes.
Victoria's best friend, Jenny Lee McCall, was her maid of honor. Jenny Lee wore a dress of light blue and carried a bouquet of yellow daisies.
Victoria looked lovely in Mattie Smythe's wedding gown. The dress was of Ivory satin, with a high neck, long sleeves, and a bustle adorned with flowers. Delicate ivory lace edged the stand-up collar and cuffs. The bodice was tight, the skirt long and full. Victoria carried a bouquet of wildflowers. I thought she looked like a princess out of a fairy tale.
Hawk wore a black suit and vest, starched white shirt, and a gray tie. He looked quite uncomfortable and quite handsome. His face was solemn as he took Victoria's hand in his and recited the vows that made Vickie his wife.
I stood beside Shadow, my eyes damp with tears as Victoria Bannerman became my son's wife. Despite the circumstances, it was a lovely ceremony. The bride was beautiful, the groom was undeniably handsome, and they were very much in love.
I saw Pa give Rebecca's hand a squeeze as Hawk kissed Victoria, and then the ceremony was over and Blackie and Mary gathered around, eager to kiss the bride and hug the groom. I hoped with all my heart that Hawk and Victoria would be as happy together as Shadow and I had always been.
As Hawk and Victoria thanked the Reverend Thorsen, Shadow turned to me and whispered "Someday" in my ear, reminding me that he had not forgotten his promise that someday we would be married in the white man's way.
We had a small party after the ceremony. Ruth Tippitt gave Victoria and Hawk a lovely tablecloth she had crocheted. The Browns gave them a quilt, the Smythes gave them a clock.
It was a pleasant afternoon. We ate cake and drank champagne that Pa had brought back from Pennsylvania. Mattie Smythe and Lorna Clancy got a little tipsy and began to warn Victoria about men and their peculiar quirks. It was sundown when our guests went home.
Hawk and Victoria had decided to l
ive in the Cheyenne lodge until they could build a cabin of their own. Shadow and Hawk had moved the lodge the day before to a place Victoria had chosen. It stood on a flat piece of ground, shaded by trees. A stream gurgled nearby.
Shadow had given Hawk and Victoria fifteen acres of land adjoining ours, as well as five good mares and a young Appaloosa stallion, for a wedding gift. Pa and Rebecca gave them a twenty dollar gold piece and a set of dishes. It wasn't much to start a life on, I thought, but Shadow and I had started on much less.
I knew life would not be easy for Victoria, although Hawk was looking forward to living in the lodge. He had plans to raise and train horses, like his father, and he was young and eager. He would not mind the hardships of living in a crude Indian lodge, of having to do without. He loved the land, loved the freedom of the outdoors.
But what of Victoria? How would she adjust to living in a hide lodge? As an only child, she had been pampered and spoiled by her parents all her life. I knew she was accustomed to a nice house, nice furniture, a soft bed. There would be no luxuries now, no extra money to spend on fancy hats or dresses or pretty nick-nacks, no time to fritter away. She would have to learn to cook over an open fire, she would have to sleep on a pallet on the ground, carry water from the stream, cook and clean and sew. And soon there would be a baby to care for.
I saw her smile up at Hawk, her eyes brimming with love. Would her feelings for Hawk survive the first few months of hard living until they could build and furnish a cabin of their own? In my heart, I felt certain their love would endure, but I knew only time would tell.
XXVII
Hawk
They had said goodbye to Hawk's parents and the wedding guests and now they were standing in the shadow of the Cheyenne lodge that was to be their home. The night was dark and warm, the sky awash with a million twinkling stars and a yellow moon. In the distance, a coyote bayed at the moon.
Reckless Love Page 26