Blue Woman expelled a long, troubled sigh. “Tom,” she stated earnestly, “we can’t send her away, not again. We’re all the family she’s got.” She picked up the water bucket and turned to retrace her steps to the house. Tom stood still for a while longer, watching his wife walk away. Maybe he was worrying uselessly. Boot Stoner might not even care enough about Lilly to go to the trouble of searching for her. Not many people knew where Low Hawk was, anyway. Still, he was not comfortable thinking about the possibility of a visit by the half-breed Cherokee.
Foreboding thoughts, initiated earlier in the garden, were still fresh in Tom’s mind at supper time. Although Blue Woman did her best to put a cheerful face on the meager meal, it was obvious that her husband was still in a brooding mood. “Look who’s up and feeling fit, Tom,” Blue Woman greeted her husband when he came to the table. “Lilly helped me fix supper. She knows her way around the kitchen.” Her comment caused Lilly to blush.
“Well, it all looks good enough to eat,” Tom responded, doing his best to summon a portion of the cheerfulness demonstrated by his wife.
The meal was taken in almost total silence, with an occasional comment from Blue Woman the only interruption. Though she made no reference to it, her husband was stoically quiet, a practice atypical for one who was usually so talkative. When she sought his gaze, he avoided her eyes, his own focused upon his plate. She knew he was still brooding over their guest.
Supper finished, Tom got up from the table and went out on the front porch to smoke. Lilly helped Blue Woman clear away the dirty dishes and pans, and then excused herself to retire to a corner of the front room, which had been divided off to make her a bedroom. After Lilly went to bed, Blue Woman joined her husband on the porch. “You are very quiet tonight,” she said as she pulled the other chair over to his side of the porch.
Tom shrugged indifferently. “There was nothing I wanted to talk about,” he said.
“It still bothers you,” she stated, her voice low so that she would not be overheard inside.
He didn’t respond right away, letting his reply build up in his mind. “She brings danger to our home,” he finally replied. “She has no right to bring this down on us.”
“Keep your voice down,” Blue Woman warned. “She will hear.”
He did as he was told, but it was too late. The tiny house, still warm from the kitchen stove, had caused Lilly to abandon the idea of sleeping. She decided to seek the comfort of the porch with her aunt and uncle, and was at the door in time to hear Tom voice his concerns. Undetected by the two on the porch at that point, she backed away and returned to her bed.
The fear she held for Boot Stoner had never left her mind completely, but it had faded to the point where she was free of it for extended periods in the last couple of days. It was much like the time she spent with Burley Chase before Boot found her there. Now that fear returned to torment her once again, for, after hearing her uncle’s comments, she knew she was not welcome there. She must run again.
Lying awake in the little corner that served as her bedroom, she waited until Tom and Blue Woman went to bed. Still she waited, until the soft drone of Blue Woman’s snoring reached her ears. Moving as quietly as she could manage then, she got up and gathered the few belongings she had brought with her from Burley’s cave. The only thing she took from her uncle was the blanket on her bed. She reasoned that they would gladly give her the blanket in exchange for her departure. Moving silently through the tiny cabin, she paused briefly before their bedroom to make sure they were not awake. Then she lifted the latch on the door and let herself out. The night air was chilly, so she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she stood trying to decide which way to go. East or west, north or south, it made little difference. She had no destination in any direction, nowhere to seek refuge, so she stepped off the porch and started walking along the creek, not really caring in which direction she went.
Jonah Feathers stepped up on a chair in order to reach a bolt of calico on the top shelf. His customer, Bonnie Rainwater, watched his efforts with intense interest. Neither she nor Jonah heard the stranger step silently through the open doorway. “Is this the one you want?” Jonah asked as he pulled the bolt of cloth from under several others. When he turned to hear her response, he was so startled that he dropped one end of the bolt, causing it to fall against the side of the chair, almost overturning it. One glance at the menacing figure standing by the door told him that he had come face-to-face with Boot Stoner.
Jonah had never seen Boot before, never been given a description of the renegade half-breed. But he knew without a doubt that he was now staring into the cruel eyes of the savage responsible for the long string of murders in Indian Territory. Puzzled by Jonah’s sudden distress, Bonnie Rainwater turned to follow the direction of his wide-eyed stare. Like Jonah, she was instantly alarmed. Though she knew nothing of Boot Stoner and Lilly, she recognized evil in that pitiless face. Instinctively, she immediately backed away until stopped by her shoulder blades striking the side wall.
Amused by the reactions of the storekeeper and his customer, Boot stood, feet widespread, a full cartridge belt wrapped around his lean belly, with a twelve-inch skinning knife sheathed in a leather scabbard and a Winchester rifle cradled in his arms. The most frightening aspect of this sudden apparition, however, was the total lack of mercy in the dark face. He said nothing while he watched Jonah disentangle himself from the chair and the bolt of cloth.
Doing his best to gather his wits once again, Jonah attempted to regain some measure of composure. “Good mornin’,” he squeaked, before finding his voice again. “I’ll be with you just as soon as I help this lady with some cloth.”
“I’m lookin’ for somebody,” Boot said with no regard for the lady or her cloth. “A girl. She came this way. Lilly’s her name. Where is she?”
Jonah hesitated, weighing his answer. He could not, in all good conscience, tell Boot where Lilly was, but he feared to remain silent in case it might cause him grief later on. “Lilly?” he finally stuttered. “I don’t know no Lilly that lives in Low Hawk. What’s her last name?”
The question caused Boot to hesitate for a moment. He almost said Stoner, since his father had taken the girl in. Irritated by the storekeeper’s response, he snapped, “I don’t know her last name. Have you seen her or not?”
“I can’t recall seein’ no strange girl around here,” Jonah replied. He glanced nervously at Bonnie, still plastered against the wall. Boot followed his gaze. Jonah silently thanked God that he had not gotten around to telling Bonnie about the sudden appearance of Walking Owl’s daughter, Lilly. “Anything else I can help you with?”
Boot stared at Jonah for a long moment while he considered whether or not the storekeeper was telling him the truth. “How many houses in this place?” Boot demanded.
“Half a dozen right around Low Hawk,” Jonah answered. “A couple more over on Black Rock Creek. There’s a bigger town ten or twelve miles from here. Okmulgee—maybe that’s where she went.”
Boot turned abruptly and walked outside. Looking to the north, he focused his gaze on the closest house. Bonnie Rainwater reacted immediately. She ran to the door after him. “My house! My house!” she cried. “No girl there.” What she said was not entirely true. There were two small boys at home as well as her twelve-year-old daughter, and she feared for her daughter’s safety. What if this madman would be satisfied with just any young girl?
“Is that so?” Boot replied. “Well, I reckon I’ll just have to see for myself.” He stepped up in the saddle and started toward Bonnie’s house, with the terrified Creek woman running after him.
Although relieved to see the menace depart, Jonah knew it was probably not the last he would see of him. After his face-to-face confrontation with the notorious outlaw, he did not doubt the evil Boot Stoner could bring to the entire community of Low Hawk. The foremost thought in his mind at this point was to send for the Creek Lighthorse. The Creek Nation was divided into six distr
icts. There were one officer and four privates stationed in Okmulgee, the headquarters for this district, which was ten miles away. “Ruth!” Jonah called out. When she came from the kitchen, he told her of Boot’s visit. “Here,” he said, handing her his shotgun. “You keep this handy in case he comes back. I’m gonna run over to Henry Red Shirt’s and send his boy to fetch the police.” Seeing the distress in her eyes, he said, “I’ll be right back.”
Concerned that Boot might happen to look back and see him running for help, Jonah slipped out the back door. Crossing the creek by the footbridge, he ran as best a man of his heft could toward a weathered frame house a quarter of a mile away. Finding Henry and his thirteen-year-old son in the yard, Jonah, out of breath and gasping for air, explained his unlikely mode of travel. After hearing Jonah’s account of Boot Stoner’s visit, Henry immediately sent his son galloping toward Okmulgee.
While the young Creek boy was dispatched to bring help, Boot Stoner stormed through Bonnie Rainwater’s house, tossing tables and chairs aside as if Lilly might be hiding behind or under them. Surprising a startled young girl in the kitchen, he grabbed her by the arm and stared into her face for a long moment. The terrified girl screamed, causing him to draw back his hand, threatening to strike her. She immediately froze. Snarling in disgust, he cast her aside just as her mother ran in behind him, pleading for his mercy.
His search fruitless, he went out the back door, only to confront the girl’s father running from the barn. Certain his wife and daughter had been attacked, Billy Rainwater charged into the intruder. With reactions quicker than most, Boot drew his rifle up to fire, but decided not to waste the bullet. Instead, he stepped aside and administered a sharp blow to Billy’s skull with the rifle barrel. Billy dropped like a heavy sack of potatoes, stunned. Boot stood over him for a few moments, waiting for him to move. When he did not, Boot grunted in disgust and returned to the front yard to retrieve his horses.
Leaving a mother and daughter crying over an injured father, and two small boys hiding in the barn, Boot rode away, determined to search every cabin in Low Hawk. He felt certain that Lilly was hiding somewhere in the little settlement. It just made sense. Where else would she go? Still lingering in the back of his mind was the suspicion that the storekeeper had lied when he said he hadn’t seen Lilly. I may have to settle with him before I leave this stinking hole, he thought. If I don’t find the bitch pretty soon, I’ll go back and beat the truth out of that fat son of a bitch. Boot was rapidly forming a hatred for the entire community of Low Hawk.
Like a crazed bear bent on destruction, Boot went from house to house, ransacking his way through room after room, leaving terrified residents in his wake. By nightfall, word had reached the remaining two households of the one-man tornado that was methodically wreaking havoc upon the community. The occupants of one of the houses, an old couple, chose to flee to the house of their neighbor, George Longpath. George, however, was not one to run before a confrontation with danger.
Giving his wife his pistol, George sent her, the children, and the old couple to hide in the barn. When they were safely away, he loaded his double-barreled shotgun and took a position by the front window of his house, determined to defend his home.
Almost an hour passed before the evil horseman appeared on the path to George’s front door. Riding slowly up the path toward the darkened house, Boot pulled his horse up short and took his time looking the place over. There was no sign of anyone about, no lamps lit, no smoke from the chimney, yet Boot sensed someone watching him. A moment more passed, and then his suspicions were confirmed.
“That’s far enough, mister,” George called out from the darkened cabin. “You can turn right around and git off my property.”
“Send Lilly out here and I’ll do that,” Boot called back.
“There ain’t nobody named Lilly here,” George said, “so git movin’, else I’ll let you have both barrels of this shotgun.”
“All right, then,” Boot replied, but made no move to leave. He had suspected a gun was aimed at him even before George threatened him. He glanced at the barn, dark like the house. I bet there’s more than a horse or a cow in that barn, he thought. Then he announced, “I’m leavin’,” and turned his horse around. Walking the horse slowly, the dun following along behind, he gradually faded into the deepening night. When he was confident the man inside the house could no longer see him, he cut back to circle around behind the barn. All the other people had stood by like frightened cattle while he ransacked their homes. This was the first place, other than the first house he searched, where someone was willing to stand up to him. Consequently, it was easy for Boot to figure this man had more reason to fight, someone to protect— someone like Lilly.
Inside the house, George stared out the window, trying to penetrate the darkness. It didn’t figure that Boot would give up that easily. George moved to a side window and stared out at the yard. Then he went to the back door, carefully lifted the latch, and peered out into the backyard. Nothing. Perhaps the murdering savage had passed him by. He knew he could not take any chances, however, so he went back to his station by the front window.
Inside the barn, Sarah Longpath sat watching the house through a crack in the door. She was barely able to make out the form of a man on horseback seeming to talk to her husband. With the pistol in her lap, she strained to hear what was being said, but it was too far away. Behind her, sitting in terrified silence, were her two children and her neighbors, White Bear and his wife, Walks All Day.
“How long do we have to stay here, Mama?” her youngest asked.
“Till your father calls us back,” Sarah answered. “Just sit quietly and wait.”
“Come sit beside me,” Walks All Day said, reaching out toward the youngster. “I am old. You can help me keep warm.”
“I can’t see,” the child complained. “It’s too dark in here. Mama, why don’t you light the lantern?”
“Yeah, Mama, why don’t you light the lantern?” The gruff voice came from somewhere in the darkness, like the chilling voice of an evil spirit, freezing the occupants of the barn.
Only for a moment was Sarah Longpath stunned into immobility. She grabbed the pistol from her lap and spun around. With no visible target, she fired anyway,aiming toward the place from which she thought the voice had come. The thick darkness was split momentarily by the muzzle flash. Unfortunately for her, it pinpointed her position, and in the next instant a rifle slug tore into her breast, killing her instantly.
The next few moments were filled with the horrified screams of the children and the old woman. Into their midst, like a demon from the dark, the belligerent half-breed dropped from the short hayloft above them. White Bear attempted to stand up to him, and received a rifle butt to the head as reward for his bravery. Walks All Day rushed to her husband’s aid while the children bolted for the door, flinging the barn door open in their desperation to escape. Boot snapped his head around quickly when they ran, but elected not to bother with them when he saw that Lilly was not with them.
Turning his attention back to the two who remained, he grabbed Walks All Day by the back of her collar and dragged her away from White Bear. The old man was sitting up now, but clearly was still rattled and confused, a result of the blow to his temple. “Where is the girl?” Boot demanded as he turned the old woman around to face him. When she did not answer, he grabbed her by the throat and tightened his grip. “Where’s Lilly?” She tried to tell him she did not know, but his grip on her throat steadily tightened until she could not speak. Annoyed by her seeming refusal to tell him, he clamped down hard on her throat until she finally fainted away. He let her drop then, and she fell across her husband’s lap. On his way out the door of the barn, he paused to take a close look at Sarah’s body, just to make sure it was not Lilly.
Shocked by the gunshots from the barn and the screams of the children, George Longpath was jolted into action. He ran out the back door to find his children running toward him, screaming in terrifi
ed panic. “Git in the house!” he ordered, on the verge of panic himself. He had suddenly found himself in the middle of a nightmare. Determined to stand his ground and protect his family before, he was now totally unnerved and hesitant to enter the barn—even to save his wife. He was unaware of the draining of blood from his knuckles as he gripped the shotgun so tightly that his hands were losing feeling. He made up his mind to charge the barn when suddenly Boot stepped outside to face him. Confronted with sudden death, George tried to react, but his hands were so numb with fear that he couldn’t even feel the shotgun. The ruthless half-breed pumped two shots into him before he could raise his weapon waist-high. Boot laughed out loud when George’s last feeble effort pulled the trigger and sent a shotgun blast into the side of the house.
Boot strode straight for the house, confident that no one remained save the two children. As he stepped inside the back door, he heard the children go out the front. Hurrying through the house, he stepped out on the porch to watch then as they fled for their lives down the path on which he had first approached the house. He grunted once, amused at the sight. Then he went back inside to see what he could find to eat. He had been wrong. Lilly was not there, but he was still confident that she was hiding somewhere in the settlement. It occurred to him that maybe he should stay put, and let the people come to him. “I’ll let ’em know where to find me,” he said, chuckling.
Chapter 14
A sizable crowd of frightened and disoriented residents of Low Hawk gathered in Jonah Feathers’ store, seeking refuge in the safety of numbers. The question before them was what to do about the monster who had torn through the community like a rabid wolf. There was scared talk floating about, but there were also irate voices demanding a stop to the maniac’s plundering and killing.
Henry Red Shirt was one who spoke for immediate action instead of waiting for the Creek police to come. “If we wait for my son to get back with the police, this mad dog may murder more of us. I say we get what weapons we have and go after this killer.”
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