Seth rubbed at his lips, wincing a little at pain in his hand, which was sore from beating Lucille. “Just because Black Hawk told Miss Gibbons about the whiskey don’t mean he’s stickin’ her.”
Jubal removed his hat and ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. “I found out she’s been taking care of his kid. The little nit got the cholera, and Black Hawk brought him to Miss Gibbons. Why would he take him to her and not to the church, or to Night Hunter? I can’t say for sure there is something going on there. It’s just a feeling I got in my gut.” He sighed. “How I would love to catch those two in the act! I could get Black Hawk hanged and send that cocky, big-mouth schoolteacher packing! She goes on about being so proper, sticking her nose in other people’s business! Somebody ought to stick their nose a little more into her business.”
Seth took another swallow of whiskey, then rubbed at puffy, bloodshot eyes. “What do we do now?”
“We?” Jubal jerked the whiskey from his hand. “There is no ‘we.’ From now on, you and I have no contact. I intend to move up in rank and get myself a position of command someday, not rot in an army jail! I won’t be getting any promotions if I’m discovered helping with the flow of whiskey onto this reservation! It also won’t help if the Army finds out I’m coming here and paying you for Lucy’s favors. I’m not coming back, Seth, and, by God, you’d better keep those girls in line! If you or them gets me in trouble, I’ll come after you, Seth Bridges! If you end up getting yourself in hot water, you’d better not say anything about me!”
Seth stepped back a little. “What about the whiskey? Can I still count on you to help get it through?”
“Not for a while. Things are too dangerous right now. If I were you, I’d lay low myself.”
“It’s good money.”
“Money you can’t spend if you’re sitting in jail. If you want to keep selling Lucille’s services, that’s your business, but if I were you, I’d stay away from the whiskey dealings for a while. And be careful how you dole out what whiskey you’ve got. Don’t ever let your Indian customers know where you keep it hidden, or they’ll sneak over here some night and take it all. Winter is coming, so ration what you’ve got.” Jubal glanced over at the girls. “You two had better listen to Seth and do like he says; otherwise, you won’t answer just to him. You’ll answer to me, too! I know men who buy women for whorehouses! I’ll arrange for them to carry you both off, and you’ll wish you were back here with Seth!”
Lucille wished she had a gun so she could shoot them both. She had thought she had a good idea, threatening Seth with going to the agency about the whiskey. Her plan had backfired when he began beating her and threatening to take Katy upstairs and “make a woman of her.” It was the worst beating he had ever given her. He had kept Katy locked in a closet while he did it, and poor Katy was terrified now, properly frightened into abiding by Seth Bridges’s wishes. Lucille was not sure how she was going to get through another winter with Seth, but at least the sergeant was not going to come around anymore.
Was it true about Miss Gibbons and the Indian called Black Hawk? She refused to believe the pretty schoolteacher could do anything wrong or sinful. Maybe she loved Black Hawk. What was so terrible about that? She couldn’t even imagine what it might be like to truly love a man and want to be with him that way. She was sure she would never know that kind of love, for what man would want her now? Even Seth didn’t want her anymore. He seldom came to her bed, said he was “tired” of her. The words terrified her, for she feared his desire for a new woman in his bed would make him turn to Katy. What she knew about the whiskey was the only way she had left of protecting her sister.
She gave Sergeant Desmond her most defiant look, but his words made her feel sick to her stomach. He was probably not lying about handing her and Katy both off to men who bought and sold women like cattle. She could not imagine anything more horrible than having to lie with many different men, and she had already decided that once she got herself and Katy away from Seth, there would never be another man in her life. All she had to do was figure out how she was going to run away, where she would get the money to do it.
“If you see me at the agency or the fort,” Jubal was telling Seth, “you just nod a hello. We hardly know each other. Remember that. I did see your daughter a couple of times but decided she was too young for me. That’s the only connection we have, except that you sometimes come to the fort to play a little poker with me and some of the other men. I want no more dealings with you.”
Seth set down his whiskey bottle. “You just try to find a way to get rid of Black Hawk. He’s our only problem. I want that bastard dead!”
Jubal sneered. “Not as much as I do!” He grabbed his hat and glanced over at Katy and Lucille again. “You girls keep your mouths shut like you did earlier today, or you’ll suffer the consequences!”
He stormed out, and Seth turned to Lucille. “Good advice,” he growled. He took up the whiskey bottle and plunked down into the soiled, stuffed chair. “Goddamn Black Hawk,” he muttered. “That redskin is costin’ me money! If the sergeant don’t find a way to kill that sonofabitch someday, I’ll do it!”
Black Hawk wanted to stay away, knew he must for the time being; yet here he stood, watching the tiny cabin where his son and the woman he loved lay sleeping. Perhaps it was possible for Evelyn and him to be together with no trouble. Did he dare hope for such a thing? What about the vision, and Night Hunter’s prediction that a white man would die? What if the vision did not mean what he thought it did… that he and Evy would one day be together, free and happy? What if it meant one of them would die?
She had been angry when he left two days ago. Maybe he should leave it that way and just go, but the woman kept drawing him back like a buck to a doe. Turtle Woman had never made him feel so helpless. She had not had this power to make him act unwisely. If he went to the door now, would it be bolted again… or unlocked? He had said his good-byes. He should stay away now until the vision was fulfilled. He had done what was necessary, had claimed the white woman as his own because to wait was worse torture than the Sun Dance sacrifice. He had hurt her in ways only a white woman could be hurt. She did not fully understand that it was all right to act on their great passion and then be apart again. She probably feared he had somehow tricked her, had taken his pleasure and now was done with her. If he left, perhaps she would never allow him to take her into his arms again.
He thought she understood, but now he was not sure. He must see her once more, show her his sincerity, promise her that somehow they would find a way to be together always. He would tell her that he would try what she had suggested; let her try to sell the paintings. He had no use for white man’s money, but under this new way of living, it was apparently a necessary thing.
He left his horse tied in back of the shed between the church and the school and walked on silent, moccasined feet to her cabin. He could not go back without seeing her once more. He had spent the last two days at his sister and grandmother’s, convincing Many Birds to begin coming to school. Before he retreated to his hidden camp, he must see Evelyn Gibbons one more time, feel himself inside her once more, show her how much he loved her.
He stuck to the shadows whenever possible. There was a bright moon tonight, which made it very difficult to keep himself hidden at all times. He crept up onto the porch. It was important to her that others did not know yet that she was in love with an Indian man, not until he was ready to marry her the Christian way. Would she even let him inside? He needed to hold her again, to reassure her, and himself, that somehow they would always be together.
He reached the door, tried the latch. Pain stabbed at his heart when he discovered it was locked. He told himself that of course it should be bolted, for her own protection. She thought he was gone and would not be coming back anytime soon. He tapped lightly on the door, then hesitated when he felt something jab him in the back.
“Hold it right there, Black Hawk” came the familiar, ha
ted voice of Jubal Desmond. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Gonna break in there and rape the poor teacher lady? Pretty, isn’t she?”
Black Hawk swallowed, scrambling to think of a logical answer for his presence. “I came for my son. I have changed my mind about letting him stay here. I am taking him back to my camp.”
“At twelve o’clock at night?”
Suddenly the door opened, and Evelyn stood there in a robe, holding up a lamp to see who was outside the door. “Black Hawk!”
All of Jubal’s suspicions were verified when he saw how Evelyn Gibbons and Black Hawk looked at each other.
“I came for my son,” he told her.
“He came here for more than that,” Jubal added. “He came to get a piece of white woman. Question is, would that white woman protest, or would she have let him in willingly?”
Evelyn was confused at first. Jubal Desmond had a rifle jabbed into Black Hawk’s side, clearly eager for the flimsiest excuse to pull the trigger. Memories of another innocent man dying before her eyes stabbed at her heart. How could she bear it if something happened to Black Hawk now? She faced Desmond boldly, realizing Black Hawk’s life could depend on what she said at this moment.
“I would have let him in willingly,” she answered. “Black Hawk said he came for Little Fox. Why would I deny him his son?”
“And why would he come for him this time of night?” Jubal sneered.
Evelyn glanced up at Black Hawk, studying his wild eyes, understanding the danger of the moment. One wrong move… She knew why he had come, and it was not for Little Fox. She thought he had already gone back to his camp. Apparently he had decided to come to her once more, and as foolish and unwise as it would have been of her to let him inside, she would have; but now there was Sergeant Desmond to contend with. She looked back at Jubal, pulling her robe closer around her neck.
“I have no idea,” she answered him. “When a man’s son is involved, who are we to predict these things?” She looked up at Black Hawk, understanding she had to go along with what he’d told the sergeant about his reason for being here. “I will go and wake Little Fox.”
“Wait just a damn minute!” Jubal growled. He jabbed the rifle harder into Black Hawk’s ribs. “Get inside!”
Evelyn could see the hatred growing in Black Hawk’s eyes. She knew how much he wanted to kill this man, and prayed that he would not do something foolish. She stepped aside and let them in, then hurried to a table and turned up the lamp. Jubal kicked shut the door, then moved around to face Black Hawk, keeping the rifle steady.
“I want the truth!” he said. “Black Hawk left his horse hidden.” His gaze moved back and forth from Black Hawk to Evelyn. “I’ve had some free time these last couple of days, and I decided to use it to keep a watch on this place at night; and just like I expected, Black Hawk here came sneaking to your porch like a thief in the night. If he came for Little Fox, he’d have his horse with him, Little Fox’s, too. Why don’t the two of you quit lying to me and tell me what’s really going on?”
Evelyn breathed deeply, beginning to hate this man as much as Black Hawk did. “All right,” she answered. “I happen to be in love with Black Hawk, and he with me. We are going to be married, a Christian ceremony. We haven’t decided yet just when.” She looked up at Black Hawk, but he kept his eyes on the sergeant.
Jubal’s mouth fell open for a moment, then he grinned. “Married?” He moved his gaze to Evelyn. “You’re in love with a filthy Indian, and you’re going to marry him?” His eyes raked over her scathingly. “You pious little slut! Has the big buck already got between your legs, Miss High and Mighty?”
Quickly, Black Hawk grabbed the end of the rifle and pushed it upward. Evelyn heard a click, and her blood ran cold. Apparently, by God’s grace, the rifle had misfired, and there was no actual shot. In a fraction of a second Black Hawk yanked the weapon out of the sergeant’s hands and slammed it crosswise against the man’s throat, shoving him against a wall. He continued to push, choking Desmond in a furious grip that left Desmond helplessly pinned.
“Father! Father!” Little Fox had heard the commotion and came running out of the bedroom.
“Black Hawk, don’t!” Evelyn begged. She watched Desmond’s eyes bulge and his face grow purple as Black Hawk continued to press the rifle, choking off the man’s air. Evelyn grabbed at Black Hawk’s arms, but he was too powerful, trying to pull them away was like tugging at concrete posts. “Black Hawk, you must let the vision be played out by others. You can’t be the one to make it happen. If you do this, you destroy the vision! I’m supposed to be able to help you, but I can’t if you deliberately kill him! Please, Black Hawk! If you do this, we can never be together! Never!”
Reference to the vision seemed to bring him back to his senses. Breathing heavily with murderous intent, he slowly released Jubal, backing away and letting him slide to the floor, gasping for breath. Black Hawk grasped the rifle by the barrel and slammed it against the wall, cracking it in half, then threw both pieces down in front of Jubal. He yanked out his hunting knife, kneeling and grabbing hold of Jubal’s hair. He jerked the man’s head back, with Jubal still holding his throat and gasping for breath, and Jubal looked up at him, his eyes wide and showing his terror. Black Hawk laid his knife against the man’s cheek. “You will not insult Miss Gibbons again, or there will be nothing more I can do to keep from slicing you open from between your legs up to your throat!” he added. He let go of the man’s hair and stood up, keeping his knife ready. “The day is coming, Jubal Desmond, when Wakantanka will see that I know my revenge!”
Evelyn stood back, thinking how, at this moment, Black Hawk looked every bit the terrifying warrior whom so many of her own people had feared over the years. He came from a people who were taught to fear no one, for whom revenge was as natural as breathing, and solving that revenge with a tomahawk or a knife seemed perfectly proper. How could anyone expect to change such a culture overnight?
Jubal managed to get to his knees, then finally to his feet. “You’ll… pay for this… Black Hawk!” he said, his voice gruff from the choking he had endured. He moved his eyes to Evelyn. “So will… you!”
“You will say nothing to no one!” Black Hawk demanded. “If you do, I will find a way to kill you! You know that I will do it!”
A shaking Jubal Desmond continued to rub at his throat. “The Army would hunt you down and hang you as fast as they could do it. Where would that… leave your son, Black Hawk! You’re all he’s got!”
“Not anymore,” Evelyn put in. “I am already growing to love the boy.”
Little Fox moved closer to his father. He glared at the sergeant with eyes as full of hate as his father’s were.
“Love?” Desmond ran a hand through his hair and stooped down to pick up his hat from where it had fallen on the floor. “Maybe you do think… you love this Indian and his nit,” he said, the pain of finding his voice evident in his eyes. “But I guarantee, lady, men like Black Hawk don’t know the meaning of the word… especially when it comes to white people.” He moved icy-blue eyes to look at Black Hawk. “Maybe I will keep quiet… for now. I think you understand how this would go for the woman here if folks found out about this. I won’t say anything if you promise to keep your nose out of Army business! And quit trying to make trouble for Seth Bridges. I don’t know that much about the man’s personal business and I don’t appreciate being accused of… being in cahoots with him. All I did was take his daughter dancin’ and to church a couple of times.”
“I suspect you’ve done more than that, Jubal Desmond!” Evelyn spoke up.
He glared at her, embarrassed that she had seen Black Hawk get the best of him in front of her. “You’ve got one hell of an imagination, lady. Fact is, I don’t intend to see Lucille Bridges at all anymore. It’s not worth the trouble if her father is mixed up in running whiskey. I don’t want… any part of that.”
“You are a liar!” Black Hawk told him. “With my
own eyes I have seen you lead men away from an area where whiskey peddlers come through! You knew they were coming!”
Jubal’s upper lip curled in anger. “And you don’t dare say a thing about it without getting yourself in trouble! It goes both ways, Black Hawk! I keep my mouth shut about you and… the little woman here… and you keep quiet about the whiskey and quit hunting down the smugglers. You make your choice, now that you’ve decided to take yourself a white woman. You show her which is more important to you—your people or the woman you’re supposed to love. If you want to protect her from being ridiculed and insulted and probably kicked off this reservation and sent back to where she came from, then stay out of the whiskey business!”
The sergeant breathed deeply, still visibly shaken. It was obvious to Evelyn that he honestly thought for a brief moment that Black Hawk would kill him. She had been stunned and shaken herself by Black Hawk’s speed and strength, and thought she was going to see murder committed before her eyes. Now she admired him even more. For Black Hawk to restrain himself from killing Jubal Desmond in the heat of such passionate anger, knowing what he knew about the man, showed the intelligence and wisdom of this man she loved. She watched Jubal, shivered at the look he gave her then.
“You’re a very foolish woman. You’re playing with fire… looking to get burned. You’re risking your good name… your job… your friendships—everything—for a goddamn rebel Indian who’ll never amount to a hill of beans!” He picked up the pieces of his rifle and stared at it a moment, wondering how he was going to explain this to the lieutenant. He stumbled to the door then and left.
Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief, and Black Hawk turned to hug Little Fox. “It will be all right,” he told the boy.
“I thought you had gone back to camp, Father. Why are you here?”
“I needed to talk to Evy. We will talk outside. You go back to bed. Perhaps tomorrow you can start your lessons. Many Birds has agreed to come to school, so you will not be so lonely.”
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