Sawbones

by Melissa Lenhardt

  Darkness, stars overhead, a few moments’ peace.

  Until they returned.

  I dropped to my knees on the bank of the river and cried, silently, clutching the petticoat. The children around me stopped playing.

  That’s how Anna found me. I held out the petticoat to her. “Can you help me? I can’t tear it.”

  She knelt down beside me, took the petticoat and tore it into strips. When she saw the dried blood and semen she paused briefly, before moving on to a cleaner part. When the strips were torn she asked, “What do I do?”

  Gently, under my disjointed directions, she wrapped my broken fingers together and placed my hands in my lap. She dipped a larger piece of the petticoat in the river and cleaned my face. Tears flowed down my cheeks.

  “Please forgive me,” I sobbed.

  Anna shook her head. “Shhh. You’re going to be fine,” she whispered. She rubbed the cool cloth on my wrists. “My mother used to do that. Isn’t it refreshing?”

  Your cool hand, it’s comforting.

  I wept harder at the memory of Kindle. If I survived and somehow escaped or was ransomed, there would be no future with Kindle. Any chance of happiness had vanished on the bank of the river.

  “Come on.” She helped me stand. “You have to carry a bucket in case Yahne Muea sees you.”

  I held a bucket in the crook of my right arm and followed. Yahne Muea did see us and was not happy. We were placing the buckets down by the tepee when she stalked up, screaming. Anna gently pushed me inside. “Lie down,” she said, and closed the flap.

  I moved far away from the door, lay down facing the wall, and curled into a ball. Through the walls of the tepee I could hear the muffled sound of Anna and Yahne Muea arguing, one in English the other in Comanche. Soon, a deep voice joined in. I wondered at the fact the male voice spoke English, though broken, and Comanche when the tepee flap opened, amplifying Yahne Muea’s diatribe, before falling closed and muffling it again.

  I didn’t turn.

  “What is wrong with her?” the man said. I tensed, wondering what was in store for me. Was I to be punished for not hauling enough water?

  “Keep Yahne Muea away from her.”

  “Why?”

  “She delights in beating her. She can’t defend herself.”

  “What is ‘delights’?”

  “Likes. It makes her happy.”

  “She is my first wife. It is enough she does not beat you.”

  Anna’s voice dropped so I could not hear the rest of their conversation. A rustling sound was followed by the unmistakable sounds of Anna buying my safety.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and curled tighter into myself, trying to block out the sound of pure selflessness. I stayed that way after the man left, after Anna checked on me. I didn’t move nor was I disturbed for the rest of the night. I didn’t sleep or think. I stared at the wall of the tent in front of me as silent tears flowed without pause from my eyes.

  That’s how the bounty hunter found me the next day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “How’s your arm?”

  The bounty hunter smiled and stared at the knife wound I had bound almost two weeks before. “Excellent. Think you can take my stitches out?”

  “Hand me a knife.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He sat across the fire from me, eating strips of cooked buffalo meat and drinking whisky. Outside, the Indians were celebrating his arrival by drinking the whisky and firing the rifles he’d brought in payment for me. It sounded not dissimilar to the frontier celebrations I’d heard before, proving drunk men behaved the same regardless of their language or enlightenment.

  The bounty hunter ate his meal and stared at me with calculating eyes. His hair was flattened with sweat from his hat to right above his ears, where it fell in soft waves onto his shoulders. A line of white skin showed around the edge of his new beard. His clothes, though dusty from the trail, were in much better condition than one would expect from a bounty hunter. He was not a fop, but he cared about how he looked.

  “You ride a gray horse, don’t you?”

  “Used to. I gave it to Quanah to entice him to kidnap you.” He smiled. “You remember. What gave me away?”

  “Your eyes.” They stared at me across the fire as they had across Lost Creek. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you when you came to get treated.”

  “Being a chameleon comes with the territory. Eat.”

  “No.”

  “It won’t do you any good to defy me.”

  “My jaw is sore from being kicked in the face.”

  He finished his meal, wiped his mouth with his hand, and rubbed it over his beard to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He smacked his lips. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t want them to beat you. But, you did shoot Blue Bear.”

  His casual acceptance of my abuse should have shocked me but it didn’t. Every human emotion—anger, love, fear, and surprise—had leaked out of me the night before. There was only one thing I wanted and the bounty hunter was the only person who could give it to me.

  “Was raping me part of the plan?”

  “Goes with the territory.”

  “I refuse to believe men do the things they do for no reason other than they can.”

  “After all you’ve been through you have such faith in humanity?”

  “Humanity is irredeemable. We will always make bad decisions and do awful things to each other. We’ll never change. However, there is always a reason behind the things we do. I’m not going to spar with you. Turn me in for the reward or kill me.”

  He looked genuinely perplexed. “Turn you in for the reward?”

  “Aren’t you a bounty hunter?”

  He laughed. “I’ve been known to collect a bounty or two, but no, I’m not here to turn you in. Or kill you. If things go right I’ll take you to Timberline, Colorado, myself.”

  “How did you know about Timberline?”

  “Like everything else, information has a price.”

  “Meaning, what? You paid for the information or I’ll have to pay to know?”

  “Either. Both.” He stood. The walls of the tepee closed around us. “Enough talk. We need to go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You do ask a lot of questions for a captive. Thought they’d rape the fight out of you.”

  “Apparently not, though they tried.”

  He opened the flap of the tepee. The sun blared through the opening onto my face. I raised my hand to block it. A knife glittered in my hand. He paused. “Where’d you get that?”

  I nodded to the corner where Anna had unpacked the cooking implements the night before. It had been easy to sneak a knife away when I was left alone in the tent. I did it without thinking, without a plan. I lay, curled, cradling the knife to my chest with my bandaged hand. As the cold metal warmed on my skin I came back to myself. My mind cleared, my resolve hardened.

  The man smirked. “You do look like hell, Catherine. What do you think you’re gonna do? Kill me?”

  “No.” I placed the knife on my neck, under my ear. “Myself.”

  He paused. “Why?”

  “Why would I want to live?” He didn’t answer and I continued. “I will be hanged if I return to New York. My profession is lost to me. Everyone I love is dead.”

  “Everyone?”

  I struggled to maintain my composure as I thought of Kindle. Would he want me now that I’d been violated by Indians? Did his honor extend that far? I pushed Kindle from my mind. If this man thought I had something or someone to lose he would not take my threat seriously.

  “I have nothing to go back to and nothing to go toward.”

  “Is that so? Billy will be so disappointed.”

  A knot of dread formed in my stomach. “Billy?”

  “A childhood name. You know him as Captain William Kindle.” The man straightened and saluted.

  The knife at my throat dropped a little.

  Anna ducked into
the teepee. “Laura—” The bounty hunter had her in his arms with a knife to her throat before I could warn her. He kicked the tepee wall, dislodging the buffalo hide door and throwing us into a firelit darkness.

  The orange flames danced on his face and I finally saw the resemblance. The nose. The tall forehead. The beard was a better disguise than I would have ever thought. The shape and color of the eyes were the same but where Kindle’s were full of compassion, humor, and sadness, this man’s were glittering with hatred and retribution.

  “You’re Cotter Black.”

  “Throw the knife into the fire or I kill her.”

  Anna’s eyes were wide with confusion and fear. I threw the knife down.

  Black looked disappointed. “That was easy.” He stood behind Anna, his arm around her waist, and the knife still at her throat. Black turned and buried his face in her neck. “That fucking grease they put in your hair stinks. But, I can look past it.” His hand moved to her breast, squeezed it roughly. Anna’s face went blank.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  “You don’t want to watch?”

  “Go ahead,” Anna said. “Quanah will be here soon. I would love to see him kill you for raping me.”

  Black laughed and kept squeezing her breast. “Quanah wouldn’t kill me. He needs my guns more than he needs a white whore. He would probably give you to me if I asked.”

  “Ask,” I said.

  “What?” Anna and Black asked it at the same time.

  “Bring Anna with us.”

  “I don’t need her.”

  “That’s my price.”

  Black was incredulous. “Your price? Since when does a captive get to make demands?”

  “You’ve gone through a lot of trouble to kidnap me, which means my life is more important to you than it is to me.”

  “You have no weapon.”

  “What are burned fingers to a dead woman?”

  I glanced at Anna and saw a glimmer of hope on her face at the prospect of freedom. I reached for the knife.

  “Don’t,” Black said. “I can’t stand the smell of burning flesh. I’ll get you a fresh knife if you’re so desperate to kill yourself.”

  “I will do anything you want if you bring Anna. Take her to safety.”

  “Anything?”

  I did not hesitate. “Anything. Or I kill myself and your plan goes up in smoke.”

  “What plan?”

  My mind was working, putting together bits of information and theorizing what the purpose of this all was. Too much was still blank, but I was determined to know everything before it was over.

  “Don’t you know your own plan? Not much of a bandit without a plan, are you?”

  He pushed Anna away and sheathed his knife. “I’ve never met a more infuriating woman.”

  I smiled for the first time in days. “That’s exactly what your brother said.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “I thought of taking you to a cave,” Black said. “Caves are too dark and depressing. Besides, you’re going to love this view.”

  Our horses walked in a straight line down a narrow trail. With the Comanche’s help, Black had tied us to our horses, with our legs across the horses’s shoulders and knotted in front of their chests to keep us from kicking the horse in the flanks. Black rode in front, leading our horses.

  Quanah Parker had not been happy with giving up Anna and drove a much harder bargain than Black expected. By the end of the negotiation, Quanah was satisfied, Yahue Muae was thrilled, and Black’s mood was as dark as his chosen name. When he turned from Quanah and saw me, the darkness on his face turned to malicious glee. My stomach turned to water. I knew I would pay a high price later.

  Evidently, the thoughts of my impending humiliation and pain put him in a talkative mood. He kept a running commentary of inconsequential subjects for our entire ride.

  “Hard to believe this canyon is here, don’t you think? Imagine the conquistadors wandering around the Llano Estacado—they named it; did you know that?—when all of a sudden the bottom drops out of the plains and into this beautiful canyon. It isn’t as magnificent as the Grand Canyon but it is impressive in its own way.”

  He turned in his saddle to see us. “Have either of you seen the Grand Canyon?” Our silence didn’t deter him. “I suppose not. Well, maybe I’ll take you there when this is over, Laura.” He winked at me and turned around.

  “This is beautiful country. Nothing to the mountains, of course. But these colors take your breath away, especially at sunrise or sunset. Don’t you agree, Anna?”

  “I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “Haven’t you spent time here since your capture? Or are you too busy servicing Quanah to have time for anything else?”

  “I didn’t know of this canyon’s existence until two days ago when we rode into it.”

  “Ah, spending your time on the plains hunting buffalo? Tell me, did you learn to skin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent! There are plenty of buffalo hunters who will be happy to buy your services.”

  “That wasn’t our deal,” I said.

  “It was a joke, Catherine.”

  “More likely a lie.”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things but I’ve never been called a liar. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”

  “Forgive me if I’m slow to trust a conniving, murdering bandit.”

  Black laughed. “At least you didn’t call me a horse thief. That’s where I draw the line. I’d kill him first, so taking his horse’d be lootin’. You know all about lootin’, don’t you Laura?”

  “Yes. Your friend Franklin made a fair amount of money off the wreckage of my wagon train.”

  “But not off you.”

  “No.”

  Black turned in his saddle. “You are a bright woman, Catherine. You figured Franklin out, huh?”

  “I overheard a conversation between him and Welch. I mistakenly thought the ‘he’ they were referring to was Foster.”

  “Foster!” Black attended to his horse as it jumped a deep, narrow, rushing creek. Anna and I grasped our horses’ manes and prayed our horses were as sure-footed as Black’s. Anna’s stumbled slightly, but she held her seat.

  “Foster doesn’t graft so much as turn a blind eye,” Black continued.

  “I see little difference.”

  Black shook his head. I could hear the humor in his voice when he replied. “It is uncanny how much like Victoria you are.”

  “Who’s Victoria?” Anna asked.

  “Billy’s wife.”

  Anna glanced over her shoulder at me.

  “Dead wife,” Black clarified. “God rest her pious, moralizing, judgmental soul.”

  “Dr. Elliston is far from pious or judgmental,” Anna said.

  “Oh, I don’t think Catherine has a bit of piety in her. She proved that her last night at Richardson.” Black turned in his saddle and sneered. “You two tried to sneak around, to keep it secret. But, I was watching too closely. You want to tell Anna or should I?”

  “What Laura did or didn’t do doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Her name’s Catherine.”

  “Was Franklin spying on me?” I asked.

  “Among others. That night, though, I was watching.”

  A blush spread over my face and my skin crawled. “I don’t believe you. The sentries would’ve seen you.”

  “It was a stormy night, or have all the pleasurable remembrances shunted the weather from your mind?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “Sentry duty is deplorable in the best weather. In bad weather, they’re less than vigilant. But, I would hate for you to think I left the success of my plan to rely on a disinterested sentry. I wore a uniform.”

  “The same one you wore when I saw you by the stables,” I said.

  “You noticed me.”

  “I thought you were a bounty hunter.”

  “I’m almost insulted,” Black laughed.

  “Did you kill
a soldier to get the uniform?”

  “I believe it even still has the bullet hole.”

  Anna made a disgusted sound.

  “Why do you care, Anna? The Army has done nothing to protect you or to find you. They left you to be raped and killed by the Comanche and Kiowa,” Black said.

  “That’s a lie. A patrol searched for you,” I said.

  “They gave up pretty easy,” Black said. “Know where the patrol sent to find you is? Fort Sill.” Black turned in his saddle. “They’re sure a long way from here, Anna. Sherman will get his pound of flesh from them in the end, but he couldn’t care less what happened to you. He cares about saving face. He rode right through the group of Kiowas that took you. Imagine; if he had been paying attention, you might be in Colorado now. With your father.”

  Black reined his horse around to face us and stopped next to Anna. She looked at him without flinching.

  “Catherine’s trying to change the subject,” Black said. He turned to me. “Or should I call you Laura?”

  “I prefer you don’t call me anything.”

  “She loves it when Billy calls her Catherine. She wrapped her legs around him and held on to the edge of the desk for dear life while Billy fucked her. She loved every minute of it.”

  He kicked his horse forward and stopped next to me. Through my mortification, I met his gaze squarely. He raised his voice in a mocking imitation of mine. “Oh, William! I love you! Ah, ah!” He laughed as my face burned with shame. “I gotta tell you, Catherine, watching you made me hard as a rock. I fucked that little laundress—what’s her name? Ruth?—to death after. Of course, no one will ever want to fuck you again after what those Indians did to you on the banks of the Canadian. I bet your snatch is as wide as this canyon.”

  I closed my eyes and turned my face away. Visions of what had been done to me next to that muddy river invaded my mind. Bile rose in my throat at the thought of being touched again, by any man. I clenched my jaw to keep from screaming against the realization it mattered little if Kindle wanted me, I would never want him.

  I opened my eyes and glared at Kindle’s brother. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Black smiled. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t try.”