Savage Hero

by Cassie Edwards

  That was what he must do. He would hide close to Fort Henry and try to catch a glimpse of Mary Beth from afar. If he did see her and saw that she was alright, he would rest much easier at night. He would dream better dreams.

  He wondered when she planned to return to him. How much longer would she feel that she must stay to know whether or not her son could be found by the soldiers?

  And when she did decide to leave, how could she explain her departure to the colonel? If he knew that she wanted to return to the Crow village, to live among the Crow, he might not allow it.

  Filled with so many doubts and questions, Brave Wolf decided that today was the day he would try to find some answers. He would go and watch for Mary Beth. But if he did not see her, what then?

  How could he return to his village without knowing how she was? Might not the torment be twofold if he went and did not see her?

  No matter what, he had to at least give it a try. If luck was on his side, she might even today ride from the fort on the beloved steed that was now hers. She might be ready to put her old life behind her and forge ahead with the new.

  But if she had not received any word yet about her son, would she be ready to look forward and let the past die as it should die?

  They had such a wonderful future together.

  They would have many children to replace the one she had lost, if indeed David was gone. They would have sons and daughters.

  That made him smile despite the misery of missing her.

  He had no duties to tend to today for his people. His brother was faring well enough—so well, in fact, that soon a decision must be made about his future.

  His people had begun to tolerate his presence among them, had even begun to forgive the error of his ways. Night Horse seemed to have changed back to the warrior he had been before being lured away by greed. His future was in his own hands.

  Shaking his head, Brave Wolf went back to thinking of his own future. He had begun making himself a new medicine bundle, which he hoped would not only busy his hands and mind while Mary Beth was gone, but also bring him good luck.

  The new medicine bundle was made now and before he left the village today, he would uncover it and get it blessed by his people’s shaman, Many Clouds.

  Having it with him today would almost ensure that he would see Mary Beth, for all the while he was making the new medicine, she had been in his heart and mind.

  He went to the back of his tepee, knelt, and began slowly, almost meditatively, unfolding the thin piece of doeskin in which he had kept his new medicine.

  He unfolded the last corner of the doeskin and smiled as he gazed down. He had made a hoop from a red willow branch. He had wrapped it in buckskin, then painted it half blue and half black and tied a hawkskin and some red feathers to it. It had taken a good portion of one day to complete it.

  “My chief?”

  The voice of Many Clouds made Brave Wolf turn toward the lowered buckskin flap at his doorway. Even before the sun had risen fully along the mountaintops, he had gone to Many Cloud’s lodge and told him that today was the day for him to bless his new medicine. He was there now, at his chief’s request, to do so.

  Brave Wolf gazed at his medicine once again, then rose from his haunches and went to the doorway. He held open the buckskin flap.

  “Welcome,” he said, stepping aside so Many Clouds could enter.

  Many Clouds returned Brave Wolf’s smile, embraced him, then walked with the younger man to where the new medicine lay awaiting his blessing.

  “I see that your new medicine has been properly made,” Many Clouds said, moving to his haunches before it. “The black paint represents night and the blue the earth. The red feathers represent the clouds and the hawkskin, your vision.”

  “Hecitu-yelo, yes, you have read my new medicine well,” Brave Wolf replied. “I have already smudged it and sung to it in order to make it powerful.”

  Many Clouds turned his eyes toward Brave Wolf. “All it needs now is my blessing . . . then use it well, my chief.”

  “I will have use of it today,” Brave Wolf said. “I will carry it with me on my quest.”

  “I do not even have to ask what that quest is,” Many Clouds said, placing a gentle hand on Brave Wolf’s shoulder. “I have seen your restlessness since the woman rode out of our village. I see in your eyes how you ache to hold her again.”

  “You are the wisest of wise,” Brave Wolf said, nodding. “I do plan to ride today to try to get a glimpse of my woman. I must see that she is not harmed by the pony soldiers. I am glad that you understand the needs of a man who has fallen in love with a woman different from himself. When I look at her I see no color. I see my heart.”

  “A man cannot choose which woman his heart leads him to, it is his heart that does the leading and choosing,” Many Clouds said, lowering his hand. “I trust your heart’s judgment, my chief. It has never led you wrong.”

  Brave Wolf gave Many Clouds a warm hug, then sat down beside him as the shaman began singing and chanting over the new medicine.

  “It is now blessed,” Many Clouds said, slowly rising. “Guard it well, my chief. You will be guarding your future.”

  Brave Wolf embraced Many Clouds again, then led him to the door.

  When the shaman had left the lodge, Brave Wolf knelt before his medicine again, then slowly folded it back into the doeskin.

  He left it there until he had his stallion readied for travel, then went for it and carefully placed it in his travel bag at one side of his horse.

  When he returned to his lodge he bypassed his bow and quiver of arrows. Instead, he fastened a sheath that held his large knife at his right side, then carried his prized rifle to his horse. After sliding it into his gunboot, and making certain he had enough ammunition, he mounted his steed and rode from the village.

  When he reached open land, with the mountains behind him, he rode at a hard gallop. He hoped that before the moon replaced the sun in the sky he would have seen his woman. If she looked as though she had been mistreated at the hands of the whites, he would go to war without hesitation!

  Chapter Twenty-two

  But true love is a durable fire;

  In the mind ever burning,

  Never sick, never old, never dead,

  From itself, never turning.

  —Sir Walter Raleigh

  Mary Beth had had no idea how quickly the colonel’s marriage plans would evolve. The wedding was actually set for tomorrow!

  Although she now knew what the soldiers had planned against Brave Wolf, she had not been able to find a way to leave the fort to go and warn him.

  With the soldiers often being lax about their sentry duties, especially at night, Mary Beth had thought it would be easy to get her horse and leave under cover of darkness.

  She had observed the gate being opened and closed enough times to know how to get it open without making any noise. But the problem had been finding it unguarded.

  Now she had only one more night left, and then she would have no choice but to tell the colonel the truth . . . that she didn’t want to marry him.

  It was critical that she find a way to escape.

  She smiled. Her eyes lit up with an idea that surely would work. She was thinking it through when a knock on the bedroom door startled her.

  Her pulse raced because she knew who it was. Colonel Downing.

  She had not had enough time to flesh out her plan, but she knew enough to get it in motion, and pray that God was on her side today.

  Her knees strangely weak from fear of what she was about to do, Mary Beth went to the door and opened it.

  She forced a smile for Colonel Downing, who was grinning from ear to ear.

  “It is all set,” he said, brushing past her. “Tomorrow is the big day. It’s all arranged. We shall be saying our vows this time tomorrow.”

  He grabbed her by the hand. “You are making me so happy,” he said. “I have never been as lonely as I have been since my wife’s passing. M
y one regret is that I must send you on to Boston so soon. But I must, for it was I who set up the rules that no women would be allowed to live at the fort. I must not be the one to break my own rules.”

  “I’m so looking forward to going to Boston,” she murmured, wondering about how good she was getting at lying. She had never been one to lie. She had always been straightforward and honest. But circumstances had made her do what she must in order to survive.

  “Your home sounds like something from a storybook,” she said. “Thank you, William.”

  Oh, how she hated calling him by his first name. It made it seem as if she cared for the arrogant, cruel man, when in truth she loathed him so much she could hardly stand being in the same room with him.

  “My house and everything about it is even better than I have described,” he said, chuckling. “My dear, you will not want for a thing. I will have servants, maids, and anyone else you ask for, at your convenience. You won’t even have to brush your own hair any longer. It will be done for you.”

  “It does sound like heaven,” she said, lying through her teeth with every word she spoke. “Tomorrow, you say? We’ll be wed tomorrow?”

  “I hope you can put from your mind any guilt about marrying so soon after your husband’s death,” he said huskily. “I can hardly wait to—”

  He stopped before saying anything about making love. He had seen her stiffen and realized that it still might be too soon for her.

  But nevertheless, she would marry him tomorrow. He could not wait any longer.

  “There is one thing that I want in order to make our marriage ceremony perfect,” Mary Beth said, putting her plan in motion.

  “And, my dear, what is that?” he asked, clasping his hands behind him. “Anything you want will be yours.”

  “I want flowers,” she said breathlessly.

  She watched him to see if he thought there was anything odd about her request.

  “I want a lot of flowers,” she quickly added.

  “But there is no way to have flowers here, so far from any city with florists,” he said.

  “I see something in your eyes—perhaps a way to have flowers?” He chuckled. “Alright, tell me what you have cooked up in that pretty head of yours. Where do you plan to get those flowers?”

  “On my way here, not far from the fort, I saw a field of wildflowers,” she said. “I could go and pick many of them. They would suffice, don’t you think, for a wedding bouquet for me to carry, and for one huge vase to sit amid the candles during the ceremony?”

  His eyes widened. He smiled. “Why, my dear, you are looking forward to our nuptials, aren’t you?” he said, taking one of her hands and kissing its palm. He held it to his heart. “Yes, flowers. We shall go and pick many, many flowers.”

  “We?” she said, feeling her hope waning. “I don’t need an escort just to pick flowers. In fact, I look forward to doing it all by myself. I don’t want you to see the flowers until after I have arranged them prettily for our ceremony.”

  She stepped closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “William, dear, I am doing this for us, for our wedding,” she murmured. “Allow me to do this. I want to make the flower arrangement so beautiful. I want to surprise you.”

  He quietly took her hand away. “I would never allow you to ride through those gates alone and risk losing you to a renegade,” he said thickly. “I, myself, will escort you. Then if you need some private moments alone to pick what you want, to be a surprise for me, I will turn my back.”

  Mary Beth’s hopes of getting a chance to escape fell apart even as her heart felt like it was breaking.

  She was beginning to realize that she couldn’t tell Colonel Downing she wouldn’t marry him. He was dead set on marrying her, tomorrow, and if she suddenly refused, who was to say what he would do with her? He most certainly would not allow her to leave for any reason, except to go to Boston after their marriage.

  “William, do you promise to let me have some moments alone to pick the flowers?” she asked, hoping that perhaps she could ride off on the powerful steed Brave Wolf had given her.

  If she could just get far away enough to hide, so that Colonel Downing couldn’t find her, then she might find a way out of this nightmare.

  “Absolutely,” he said, smiling. “And we shall leave on our little outing soon, my dear. First I have to attend to some business. I shall send one of my soldiers with a large gunny sack from the kitchen to transport the flowers to the fort.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she walked him to the door. “I can hardly wait to start picking.”

  He gave her a soft kiss on her cheek, then walked away with light steps, his mood obviously buoyant.

  Sighing, Mary Beth went back into the bedroom, closed the door, then leaned her back against it. “What am I to do?” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

  “Where will this lead?” she wondered, throwing herself on the bed.

  She pummeled her fists on the mattress, cursing the day she had decided to come to Fort Henry. She had not achieved anything but a sentence worse than death, marrying Colonel Downing.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  If ever those shalt love

  In the sweet pangs of it, remember me.

  —Shakespeare

  Brave Wolf took some dried elk jerky from the parfleche bag he kept on his horse, then reached into his other travel bag and touched his new medicine. He gazed heavenward and said a soft prayer to the First Maker. Then he sat down on the bluff, where he was protected from view by a stand of brush.

  When Brave Wolf had first arrived in the late afternoon yesterday, he had secured his steed back from the bluff in the shade of a cottonwood tree, then had taken his knife and cut through the leaves and limbs of the brush just enough to give him a clear view of the fort down below, yet not enough to reveal his presence there.

  He felt great relief knowing that Mary Beth was safe and alive at the fort. He had seen her step from the large cabin in the center of the courtyard to get a breath of fresh air.

  He had not seen any signs of a young white brave at the fort, which he thought he would if David was there; it was not normal for a child his age to stay cooped up inside.

  He assumed the pony soldiers had had no more success at finding David than Brave Wolf’s warriors.

  His hair still wet from a morning dip in a nearby stream, Brave Wolf got comfortable on a blanket that he had spread there yesterday for his comfort. He sat directly before the open space in the brush and yanked a big piece of jerky off with his teeth.

  His eyes darted from here to there as he saw much activity down below in the fort.

  It was morning. The pony soldiers were apparently doing their daily chores.

  But he wasn’t there to look at soldiers. He wanted to see Mary Beth again. He wanted to go and get her and take her home with him. He wanted to tell her how much he needed to feel the throb of her throat against his lips as he kissed her there. In the naked dark of night he wanted to feel her smooth, sweet skin and warm breasts with his hands. . . .

  His thoughts stilled and his eyes widened when he saw Mary Beth step from the colonel’s cabin, followed by the colonel himself. His gaze raked over Mary Beth. She no longer wore the doeskin dress. She was dressed in white woman’s attire.

  She looked beautiful today with her hair hanging long and loose in the sun, the soft breeze making it ripple down her back. The dress she wore was one that seemed to be made of a much lighter fabric than doeskin. The breeze caused the full skirt to flutter around her legs, revealing her slender ankles.

  His pulse raced when he saw where Mary Beth and the colonel were headed. The horse corral!

  When they stopped at the corral, Brave Wolf’s heart skipped an anxious beat at the possibility that Mary Beth might soon be riding out of the fort.

  He searched among the steeds with his eyes and soon found the sorrel he had given to Mary Beth. It was already saddled.

  He watched as Mary Beth
went to the dark sorrel and slowly ran her hands over its withers. His eyes narrowed when the colonel placed his hands at Mary Beth’s waist and lifted her into the saddle.

  Brave Wolf pushed the limbs of the brush farther apart so that he could get a better look. The colonel mounted another steed, then rode with Mary Beth through the gate that had been opened for them.

  Curious about where the colonel might be taking Mary Beth, Brave Wolf yanked his blanket off the ground, stuffed it in the travel bag, then leapt into his saddle and began making his way down the steep slope of land.

  When he reached level ground, he made his way through a thick stand of cottonwood trees that blocked his view of Mary Beth and the colonel. He was moving blindly now through the trees, not sure if he was going in the right direction. He wanted to get free of the trees so that he could look in all directions and follow Mary Beth and the colonel.

  When he heard Mary Beth’s voice, his heart skipped a beat and he stopped quickly. He dismounted and tethered his horse’s reins to a tree, then crept stealthily onward on foot, his rifle clutched hard in his right hand.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  A woman’s whole life

  is a history of the affections.

  —Washington Irving

  “If it wasn’t for President Grant’s stubborn insistence on a humane policy toward Indians, we’d have gotten the advantage of the savages way before now,” Colonel Downing said as he rode beside Mary Beth. “As it is, many innocent soldiers died alongside Custer.”

  He realized what he had just said and looked quickly toward Mary Beth. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was careless of me. I did not mean to remind you all over again of your husband’s death. Again I spoke before I thought.”

  “I understand,” Mary Beth said, controlling her temper, for it was not the reminder of Lloyd’s death that bothered her as much as the Colonel’s hatred of Indians.

  “I’m glad you understand,” he said. Then he smiled as they continued onward. “Ah, that Custer. Did you know they called him the Boy General? He was hoping to gain the Democratic nomination for President. A stunning victory over hostile Indians could have made him a national hero overnight. Yep, he’d have been our next President.” He frowned. “As it is, more than likely Grant will be elected again.”