Chapter 16
"I'm sorry," Sloan said quietly, after the outlaws walked away, leaving him and Blair in the blazing late-summer sun. "I had no idea that things were what they were."
"You deceived me. You lied to me about everything."
"I lied to you about my job and the chance meeting. Nothing else."
"Well, I think that is quite enough. There is only one thing I care about right now, and it's getting away from here alive. Afterwards, I never want to see or hear from you again."
"I know you are angry with me, but right now I need you to focus on how we can escape and stay in one piece. Do you still have the knife I gave you?"
"It's tucked in my boot."
"Try to get your foot back to my hand. I am going to try to pull your boot off and get it out."
Blair bit down on her tongue as they twisted and maneuvered to free the knife. She used her stockinged foot to push the sharp blade into Sloan's grip. She frantically looked around as he began to saw through the thick ropes, swearing that her pounding heart could be heard clear across to the main house.
"Got it. Your turn, kiddo. There you go," Sloan said, freeing her. "We need weapons."
"My gun is still inside on the endtable. I can sneak through the house and try to get it."
"Under any other circumstance, I would discourage you from taking this risk, but we don't have much of a choice here. Be careful. Blair?"
"What?"
"I love you."
Blair did not respond. She looked into his blue eyes and sighed. "I liked you so much better when I thought you were just a rough-edged man who got sprayed in the face by a skunk."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I liked myself better then, too. I think I once told you that I loathed liars, and I was one of the worst. I am sorry."
"I forgive you," Blair murmured, "but I can't trust you. It's over, Sloan."
Sloan's eyes were filled with pain. "I understand. I hope we get a chance to talk more later though."
"If we live."
"We will live. Because of you, I finally have something worth living for, Blair. You are my life, and without you nothing matters." Blair said nothing as he gently kissed her cheek. "All is clear. Hurry! Be careful."
Blair ducked behind barrels to hide herself as she scurried back towards the main house. Silently, she opened the front door and snuck into the sitting room.
"Madeline?" she whispered.
The maid turned her head from Malcom's lifeless body that lay sprawled on the floor. In the older woman's hand was a cast-iron frying pan. "Miss Blair? He wanted me to cook for him. After what he had done to you and Mr. Sloan …"
"Shhh, it will all be fine. You did very well. Thank you." Blair held the sobbing woman in comfort. "Now listen carefully. Sloan and I are going to try to get out of here. I want you to go down into the root cellar and hide. Do not make a sound. We will be back for you when it's safe, I promise."
Blair slid her gun into the back waistband of her trousers and then removed two rifles from the shelf. She loaded both, threw a handful of ammo into her pockets, and with a kiss on her old friend's cheek, ventured back out the front door. Sloan was waiting in the shadows.
"Grandfather is dead. Madeline struck him with a frying pan," Blair whispered.
"Is she all right?"
"I told her to hide in the root cellar until we came around back for her. As long as she makes it over there and is not seen, she should be safe. We need horses. How can we get them in broad daylight?"
"Do you remember how you got the attention of the kidnappers?"
"Yes, but Old Joe isn't going to fall for that again. Besides, I don't see any hornets' nests."
"Worse. You got a pissed-off horse that has caught your scent. I swear that animal is part bloodhound. I need you to go back inside and get Malcolm's glasses."
"So what is your plan?"
"It's a long shot, but …"
Blair followed Sloan's directions and placed several bullets at the far end of the house, and covered them with hay. Using a lens from her Grandfather's glasses, she focused the harsh sun to produce a tiny beam of light upon the mound of brittle tinder. She and Sloan hid behind the stable and waited.
Blair dug her nails into Sloan's arm as the tiny sliver of smoke to turn to fire. She held her breath anxiously and praying diligently for the plan to work. Sloan pulled her behind him as the bullets began to explode and send blistering popping sounds to echo against the structures. The sheriff was the first to appear to investigate. Sloan snuck behind the ex-bounty hunter and clipped him on the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Blair quickly tied and gagged the man before Sloan dragged him to the back of the stalls and locked him inside the tack room.
"One down, love. Duck!" Sloan shouted, as a bullet whirred past his head. He rolled to his side and let loose three rounds, watching the former kidnapper collapse to the ground. Blair grabbed a horse and began to lead it around to the side of the stable when Clay confronted her with the barrel of his gun raised to her head.
"It's the end of the line for you, little lady."
Blair had no time to utter a sound before a pair of iron hooves clouted the man and sent him face first to the hard ground. He quickly turned to his back, his gun aimed for the horse's chest as Skinwalker reared before him. Blair kicked the gun from his hand and threw herself out of the way as the animal heaved his massive weight upon the stunned man's chest. The sound of bones crunching under the sharp hooves turned Blair's stomach and she watched breathlessly as Skinwalker continued to crush the body as though he were attacking a rattlesnake. Blair pressed her body against the side of the stable and trembled as she wiped blood from her face, unable to break her stare from what remained of Clay.
"Blair! What the …" Sloan stopped to look at the carnage. "We have to get out of here before anyone else shows up. We don't know how many these men had in their gang. I just shot two more, and the sheriff is locked in the tack room."
"Clay was the one who killed your wife, Sloan." Blair said numbly as she stared at the broken body. "Grandfather was allowing them to hide out here while he and Deuce murdered all those poor women and children."
"I know. Malcolm was in on a real estate swindle. He had Clay clean out the areas where the real estate market would be the highest and then buy it off the banks dirt cheap. The men he hired just happened to have some personal vendettas with the ladies in question."
"Why kill all these people? How much money does someone need to be happy?" Blair asked, numbly. As she spoke, her eyes remained glued to the bloody remains of the foreman.
"Greedy people are never satisfied, Blair. They always want more. Sweetheart, I need you to snap out of it. We don't have time to waste, and Deuce is still on the loose. Let's go get Madeline." He grabbed her right hand and pulled her towards the corral.
"Sloan!" Blair screamed as the man spun to the left before he crumbled to the ground. A large red stain began to spread over his left shoulder. "Sloan!"
"Too late for him, little girl. Don't worry," Deuce said, twirling his gun. "He ain't dead yet. Wound like that usually festers and then takes its victim nice and slow-like."
"You lost, Deuce. All your men are dead, including Malcolm," Blair hissed, slowly reaching behind her back to retrieve her gun.
"Don't need any of them. I know the combinations of the safe, and its easy 'nuff to forge old Malcolm's signature and get rights to it all. So he's dead, huh? How did ya do it?"
"Madeline cracked his head open with a frying pan. If it were me," she said, producing her gun, "I would have shot him between the eyes."
"With that toy? Honey, you can barely lift it," he laughed.
Blair cocked the hammer. "Put that gun down and give yourself up, Deuce. It's over."
"Now, is that how you talk to your dear, old Grandpa, girl? Enough playing cowboy. It's time to put on a dress and find your dollies."
"You don't have my signature anywhere," Blair said, slowly standi
ng and moving away from Sloan. "You can't have Imelda's estate or the bank account without me."
"Then I guess you need to be reasonable, right? The papers or," he turned the barrel of the gun to Sloan's head, "his life."
Blair inhaled. Deuce clearly did not believe her capable of hitting a target, let alone killing him. Was she capable? Doubts started to plague her mind. "The papers, then."
"Drop the gun."
"How about if," she pulled the trigger, "I drop you instead?"
Deuce's eyes widened as he stared down at the hole in his chest. He fell to the ground without so much as a final breath. Blair stood frozen for a moment, jarred from her numbness by Skinwalker pushing against her back and snorting loudly. Sloan!
Blair trembled as she dropped to the ground and rested Sloan's head in her lap. "Sloan? Please, don't die on me. Don't leave me! Dear Lord, I am begging you. I love you," she wept, cradling his head in her arms.
"Shhh, I'm not planning on going anywhere, darling. What's the damage?" he whispered hoarsely.
"It went clean through. There is so much blood, though. I've never seen so much blood," Blair sobbed.
"I know you're in shock, baby, but I need you to pull yourself together for a while longer. There's an Indian camp down the river. Take me there," he growled painfully. "Quickly."
Blair nodded and slowly stood, looking around fearfully for any other outlaws. She left Skinwalker nuzzling Sloan as she ran to retrieve Madeline from the root cellar. She rapidly explained the situation, and together they dragged Sloan's large body into the back of a flatbed wagon and hitched up a horse. Madeline stayed with Sloan to steady him while Blair jumped onto the bench, grabbed the reins, and slapped them against the animal's flanks with a yell. The powerful animal shot into a straight run, neck to neck with Skinwalker in the direction of the river and towards the group of bark-covered wickiups.
"Hello! We need help!!" Blair called out, pulling back on the reins to stop the wagon. "Please! Help us!"
"They are going to kill us and take our scalps," Madeline cried fearfully.
"These are Ute's. They don't take scalps," Blair said. "At least, not as far as I know."
A call came out from overhead and Blair gripped the reins tightly as the wagon was suddenly surrounded by tribal members dressed in deer, mink, and rabbit hides. Several men blocked her path, ignoring her questions as others carefully removed Sloan's body from the wagon and carried him into a small structure located in the shaded cliff area.
"Where are you taking him? Sloan!" Blair panicked, trying desperately to bypass the stocky man who had placed his hand on her shoulder.
"You are Nocona's mate?" the older man asked.
"Sloan? I am his fiancée. Do you speak English?"
"I went to the white man's school for many years. I am Quan, son of Shaman."
"Will Sloan be all right? Please allow me to see him."
"He is with the spirits for healing. Come."
Madeline gripped Blair's wrist as they followed Quan through the camp and into a large community shelter. He said something to the women, all who darted to follow his orders.
"My wives, mother, sisters and daughter," he explained. "Our families live together with Magic Dogs. Your Dog. It does not allow riders?"
"Dogs? I don't have a dog."
"One on wagon, other in field. White like cloud."
"The horses? Are you talking about Skinwalker?" Blair asked cautiously.
The man looked excited as he shared her words. "Spirit animals are sacred. The Old People will want to touch his spirit before you leave us." Quan lifted his head to the sound of distant thunder. "Your visit brings us rain! It is a sign. A good sign."
"Please explain this to me. I am not familiar with your ways. Why do you call Sloan 'Nocona'?"
"It means 'one who wanders'. Sit," Quan ordered, pointing to a log. "Bears are most sacred to us. Many years ago, Nocona brought to us a cub whose mother had been slaughtered. He could have killed it as well, but chose to bring it to our people to nourish and help grow strong. In this, he performed an act of honor to the Ute. He was a man lost in the wilderness and seeking a home. We give him that name so he might always have a home with us. You follow my wife. She show you place to sleep while Nocona is healed."
"It's early yet. Too early for bed," Blair said, with a frown.
"Food will be brought to you. Go now and sleep." Quan said something to the twittering women and left the shelter.
"Miss? What is happening?" Madeline asked nervously as a severe old woman led them to a small, empty dwelling. Several hides were tossed to the ground and straightened out, and a wooden bowl of roasted meat and bread was brought to them.
"I think we were just sent to our room for the night," Blair said, dumbfounded as she was handed a mug of tea and pointed in the direction of the furs. "Unbelievable."
The thunder rumbled again as several fat drops of rain began to fall early the following morning. Blair and Madeline were escorted to Quan and gestured to sit. "In spring, the Ute gather for the Bear Dance. So it will be with your Sloan."
"How is Sloan? Tell me!" Blair demanded as she stomped up to him.
"They are savages, Miss. They will do untold things to us," Madeline sobbed. "They locked us away and now they are going to kill us."
"Madeline! Stop crying! They are not going to hurt us," Blair scolded.
"If we wish to hurt women, would have done yesterday. Nocona good. Ready to do Bear Dance."
"Please forgive her ignorance, Quan. Please explain about your Bear Dance."
"When bear wakes up, he's weak; he needs food, and he does not see well. But when they hold the dance, it helps him get out, because the helpers say to the dancers, 'Get out and dance, you, because bear is waking up and that woman wants you to dance with her'," Quan explained, accepting a cup steaming tea from a woman. "The Round Dance follows to drive out illness. Your Nocona, one you call fiancé, will dance with us. First, you must summon your Magic Dog that we might witness your worthiness to be named with him."
"Skinwalker does not come when I call him. He is, as you say, a free spirit?" Blair said, with concern. "Why would I need to be named with Sloan?"
"To marry, must have name. Summon your Magic Dog," was the response.
Would they not help Sloan if Skinwalker was uncooperative? Blair sighed. Here was yet another man who did not tolerate excuses. She stood gracefully and went outside to stand in the rain. Lifting her face to the sky, she took a moment to enjoy the cool, refreshing feel of the sweet water falling upon her face.
"Heavenly Father, please let Sloan live," she prayed aloud as she began to walk away from the village. "I will do whatever You wish if you help him. I give you my word. I love him. I truly do."
The rumbling of the thunder, followed a crack of distant lightning caught the attention of the grazing herd. The giant white horse lifted his head to sniff the air as he stood proudly among several smaller, darker horses. Blair smiled, watching as he returned to nuzzle and nip at them.
"Skinwalker?" she called, walking in his direction. The animal laid his ears back and bared his teeth, causing her to freeze in her tracks. Instinctively she understood. He had claimed the mares as his and was guarding his territory. "Don't worry, boy. I won't force you to come with me, but I really would appreciate it."
The horse shook his head boldly and stomped the ground with both front hooves, clearly sending the message that she was to keep her distance. Damn rude, arrogant horse, Blair thought. Her patience was tried as he raised himself on his rear legs and slammed both front hooves to the dirt.
"I am going to miss you, my friend. Thank you for taking care of me. However, I am not leaving until you say a proper goodbye."
Unseen eyes from the village watched her every move, and murmurs grew as the horse approached her, slinging his massive head and raking his hooves into the earth. Holding her breath, Blair stood her ground as Skinwalker paced just inches before her. She felt his steaming hot breath b
rush past her as he swung his head aggressively back and forth. He suddenly stopped his swaying, took a single step back, and lowered his head, just before he pushed her to the ground with a giant shove of his muzzle.
Blair felt her eyes widen as her bottom made full contact with the stony ground. She pounded on the ground with her fists and then scrambled to her feet. She stomped her foot one time, wagged her finger angrily and yelling, "That hurt, you stupid horse! I was trying to be nice and respectful of your space and you have the bloody audacity to push me down?! Consider yourself fortunate that there are no glue factories around here. I can't believe that I thought I would actually miss you. What are you doing?"
The horse snorted, pushing her again with his head. She stumbled backwards, fighting to regain her footing as Skinwalker walked up to her. She braced her feet with the animal stepping straight towards her.
"You will have to go through me before I back down, you ninny!"
Skinwalker lifted his head with a high neigh, and walked head-on into Blair. With a quick nudge of his nose, he shoved her, bottom first, into a deep puddle of mud. Skinwalker whinnied and lowered his head to her face and curled back his lips. He nuzzled her hair, took a quick step back and then cantered off back to his mares. Blair sat, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, and fisted the ground several times, cursing. She picked up a handful of dirt and flung it in the horse's direction before she pulled herself to her feet and stomped back to the camp.
A weak voice called out, "Did I hear you swearing again, Blair? I thought I made myself clear that …"
"Sloan!" she threw herself into his free right arm, catching him as he faltered. "You're all right! You scared me! Don't you ever do that again, hear me?"
"Nocona will heal well. Needs food and rest," Quan said. "The Magic Dog wishes to breed, yes? He will make strong mounts for our people. He stays with Ute, yes?"
"Yes! The Magic Dog pushed me into a mud puddle. Damn horse," Blair hissed. "And you! What were you thinking, getting shot?!" She lightly slapped Sloan's good arm.
Over the Barrel Page 18