“Hmm,” Lone Eagle said.
The two sat silent for a time.
“Lone Eagle, we have saved each other’s lives. Is that not so?”
“That is so.”
“That means we should have a trust, a respect, for one another. Is that not so?”
Lone Eagle hesitated, then answered. “That is so.”
“People who respect one another should tell each other the truth. Right?”
“Hmm.” Lone Eagle grunted.
“Why do you say Jenny is not here? Why do you say the high-button shoes I saw that girl wearing are not Jenny’s shoes? I know those shoes. I’ve seen Jenny wearing them. Why do you deny she is here?”
“I did not say Jenny was not here. The chief said Jenny was not here. I only told you what the chief said.”
“What?” Will grasped Lone Eagle’s arm. He felt a sharp prick against his neck. Lone Eagle had drawn his knife so quickly that Will had not even seen the blade’s movement.
“Never touch a Cheyenne,” Lone Eagle said, “unless you plan to kill him.”
CHAPTER 44
* * *
The saliva in Jenny’s throat made it hard to breathe. She wanted to swallow, but she was afraid she would choke on the gag. The leather thong cut into the corners of her mouth, making the edges of her lips raw.
The Cheyenne hadn’t treated her like this before. Small Duck had always tied her hands each night to the cottonwood inside the wikiup. But they’d always been tied in front of her, and she’d had some freedom of movement. Before, she’d been able to slide her hands down to the bottom of the trunk and curl up. When she’d gotten cold, she could stretch out and sidle closer to the embers of the small fire that Small Duck allowed her to build in the center of the wikiup during the day. The little warmth that remained from those coals provided enough heat that she could sleep a few hours. Now she was forced to sit upright, her back lashed tightly to the small tree, her legs extended before her.
“It’s not right, Lone Eagle. And you know it.”
Jenny eye’s widened. That was Will Braddock’s voice!
“Jenny should not be held here as a captive. She did nothing to deserve being made a slave.”
Jenny heard Will’s words clearly.
“Slave? What does a white man like you know about slavery? You kept African men as slaves for years.”
That was Lone Eagle speaking. Will Braddock and Lone Eagle were right outside her wikiup.
“My family never owned slaves,” Will said. “My father died in the war to free the Negros. Don’t include me with other white men who owned slaves.”
“Arggh.” Jenny yelled into the gag. It came out as a whimper.
Will would never hear her. She had to get his attention somehow. She twisted against the thong that bound her. If she could just loosen it . . . She stomped her feet on the ground. If Will couldn’t hear her voice, maybe he could hear the drubbing. She may as well be pounding with bare feet, no more sound than her moccasins made.
She blinked fiercely to squeeze away her tears. She looked around the wikiup, searching for something that could aid her.
There. That gourd held buffalo fat she used for cooking. It should still be liquid because she kept it near the fire during the day. Her feet hadn’t been tied. She stretched a leg as far as she could reach. If she could drag that gourd into the embers of the fire she might get a blaze started with the fat. Then she could kick the burning embers against the bottom of the wikiup and set the branches from which it was made on fire.
“Come,” Lone Eagle said. “We will sleep now. You have to walk to Fort Sanders in the morning.”
“Arggh.” Jenny shouted against the gag. No! Don’t leave! She had to get Will’s attention. She hooked her toes around the gourd and pulled it toward the coals. The gourd wouldn’t slide on the dirt. She had to hurry. She pulled again, harder. The gourd tipped over. The fatty contents ran out and seeped into the ground—far from the embers.
No! No! She choked on her gag. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
CHAPTER 45
* * *
Will felt a toe poke him in the ribs. He rolled over and looked up at Lone Eagle.
“Time you get up,” Lone Eagle said.
Will sat up and rubbed his eyes. Lone Eagle had given him a buffalo robe last evening and he’d rolled up in it under a cottonwood beside the creek. He looked around the small clearing where he’d spent the night. The first rays of light streaked the eastern horizon with yellows and reds. He tossed the robe aside and stood.
Lone Eagle handed him a strip of jerky. “Breakfast.”
“Humph, thanks.” Will took a bite out of the dried meat and stuffed the remainder into his pants pocket.
“Last night,” Lone Eagle said, “when we talked about slavery.” Lone Eagle paused.
“Yes, what about it?”
“I thought all night about what you said.”
“And?”
“You are right. Jenny should not be a slave.”
“You know where she is?”
Lone Eagle nodded. “In that wikiup down by the creek bank . . . where we stopped yesterday and talked about slavery.”
Will turned and stepped toward the creek. Lone Eagle grabbed his arm and held him. The Cheyenne’s grip on his bicep dug into the arrow wound. It hurt. Will gritted his teeth. He glared into Lone Eagle’s eyes. Will resisted the urge to pull away—although he was tempted to try. In truth, he probably couldn’t get away from Lone Eagle without a weapon.
“If I had a knife I would probably try to kill you right now,” Will said. “You told me that one warrior doesn’t touch another unless he intends to kill him.”
“I am saving your life.” Lone Eagle released Will’s arm.
“Saving my life?”
“If someone sees you go to that wikiup, they will kill you. If the chief had wanted you to know Jenny was here, he would have told you. Chief does not want the soldiers to know a white woman is here. He would not let you go, if you knew she was here.”
Will dropped his head and sighed. “How can I save her?”
Lone Eagle was silent for a moment. “There is a way.”
“There is?”
“Knock me out.”
“What?” Will wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Knock you out?”
“Yes. Then I do not know when you rescue Jenny. I do not know that you escaped up the creek. The village will think you overpowered me.” Lone Eagle flashed Will a broad grin.
Will smiled too. “Me overpower you?”
“Surprise me. From behind.”
“You really want me to knock you out?”
“It is the only way.”
Will stooped and picked up a sturdy limb. He weighed its feel in his hand. It was solid enough.
“When I turn, you hit me.”
Will nodded.
“Take my knife.” Lone Eagle pointed to the sheath at his waist. “Jenny is alone in the wikiup, but she is tied to the tree.”
Will nodded.
“Do not steal a horse. The herd boys are alert now. They were punished when you stole Buck last time. They will not let it happen again.”
Will held out his hand. “Thank you.”
Lone Eagle looked at Will’s hand for a moment before grasping it. “Good luck, Will.”
“We are no longer even, Lone Eagle. I owe you.”
“Someday you will repay me.”
“That’s a promise.”
Lone Eagle turned his back. Will studied the club. It was the size of a baseball bat.
“Why are you waiting?” Lone Eagle asked.
Will tightened his grip. He swung hard. Lone Eagle groaned and slumped to the ground.
Will knelt over the prostrate body. “Whew. Bet that hurt.” He felt Lone Eagle’s neck for a pulse. It beat strongly. He ran his hand over the back of the skull. It wasn’t broken, nor was there blood, but a lump swelled on the back of the mixed-blood’s head.
“Sorry, L
one Eagle.” Will pulled the mixed-blood’s knife from its sheath and slipped it into his own waistband.
He crept through the surrounding trees past the outer ring of tepees until he came opposite the spot where Lone Eagle had said Jenny was captive. At least he hoped he had the right spot. He could only see one wikiup from here. It must be the one. He crouched behind a cottonwood and studied the tepees in the outer ring. The camp was still quiet. He needed to make his move before the Indians awoke, though. And light was increasing in the east.
A large dog lay beside one of the tepees. It growled, baring its teeth. He might be able to kill the dog with the knife. On the other hand, the dog might bark an alarm before he could do it. He slipped the piece of jerky out of his pocket and tossed it over the head of the dog as far as he could. The dog ran to fetch it.
He darted across the space between the outer ring and the creek bank. He squatted next to the wikiup that was his target. It’d better be the right one. He didn’t want to wind up inside with a startled warrior.
“Jenny,” he whispered. No response. He whispered louder. “Jenny.” He heard scuffling inside the wikiup. Was it Jenny? Or some brave? Was he at the right place?
He used Lone Eagle’s knife to cut the thongs that tied a buffalo skin covering over the wikiup’s entrance. He lifted the covering and stuck his head inside. “Jenny,” he whispered.
A thump answered him. “Arggh.” He heard a strangled grunt.
Good heavens it was dark inside there. He crawled through the doorway to keep his profile small against the outside sky. “Jenny?”
“Arggh.” More thumping. Louder this time.
He crawled close to the embers of a fire that provided the only bit of light inside the wikiup. “Jenny, I think that’s you. If it is, stomp once.”
Thump!
“Good. Give me a minute to let my eyes adjust.”
“Arggh.”
“I hear you. I’ll get you free in a minute.”
He made out the shape of a person hunched against the trunk of a slender tree that seemed to grow up through the roof of the wikiup. Lone Eagle had said she’d be tied to one. He crawled closer. It was Jenny. He ran his hands up her side and located the thongs that bound her waist to the sapling. He sliced the bindings. When Jenny didn’t move he pulled on her arm. “Come on. We have to go.”
“Arggh.”
“Say something, Jenny.”
“Arggh.” Feet pounded fiercely.
He reached up and felt the gag covering her mouth. He untied it.
“How do you expect me to say anything, Will, with that gag in my mouth?” She spit onto the ground.
Will traced his fingers along her face and felt the cuts where the leather had sawed into the side of her mouth. His fingers came away sticky. He couldn’t see it, but knew it was blood.
“My hands, Will. My hands are tied behind the tree.”
He cut the leather thong that secured her hands.
She brought her hands forward and pounded on Will’s chest with her fists. “Mmm.” She grunted.
Will could hear her frustration and didn’t stop her. She slumped forward, leaned her head on him, and cried.
“Thank you, Will. I’m sorry I hit you. I’m just so angry.”
“It’s all right. You’ll be all right now.” It felt strange, yet comfortable, to feel her face pressed close against his shoulder.
“How’d you know where to find me?”
He told her Lone Eagle had pointed out her prison. Will told her that her family was safe and explained how he’d pieced the clues together about her whereabouts.
“We have to get out of here, Jenny. Are you ready?”
Her head nodded against his shoulder.
Will untangled the remains of the leather thongs that had bound her to the tree. His hand caught in a strap that encircled her waist and he reached to cut it.
“No,” Jenny said. “That’s my parfleche.”
Will stuck the knife in his waistband and led her toward the light that filtered into the wikiup through its entrance.
“We’ve got to get away from here before the camp awakens.”
CHAPTER 46
* * *
“Aw, now, ye danged old nag.” Paddy swatted the swaybacked horse with the reins. “I swear to tell ye, if I’d known ye were gonna throw a shoe I’d a made ye the packhorse. Sure, and if it weren’t so much trouble I’d switch the load off the packhorse now. Come on, giddup.”
He spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. “Sure, and I ain’t got all the time in the world to deliver this liquor and ammunition to Chief Tall Bear.”
Paddy had ridden out of Cheyenne early the previous morning anticipating that a day’s ride would bring him to Lodgepole Creek. He hadn’t bargained on the shortage of riding horses in Cheyenne and had to settle on leftovers from the livery stable’s meager herd. Folks kept flocking into the new town to buy lots and take up residence. That meant good business for Hell on Wheels and Mort Kavanagh’s saloon, but the demand for horses was greater than the stable could handle.
He’d sold two of the bottles of liquor to the stable owner at a bargain price to get the last two horses in the place. He patted his vest pocket and jingled the coins. He’d send the money to his mother and sister. Chief Tall Bear wouldn’t know he was being shorted on the amount of liquor Kavanagh was sending. Paddy had gotten away with cheating the Indians before—he could do it again.
When the saddle horse had thrown the shoe late yesterday he was forced to slow his pace and finally wound up camping for the night, short of his destination. He’d not wanted to ride into the Cheyenne village after dark. Might get his scalp lifted. So he’d waited until morning before setting out again.
Paddy hadn’t thought he’d be able to lift the heavy liquor and ammunition boxes back onto the packsaddle if he took them off, so the animal had stood all night with its load in place. This morning the tired packhorse, as well as the shoeless one he was riding, slowed his progress.
“Ah, come on, now, ye no-account nags. We’re almost there. I can see the camp from here.” He’d reached the ridge above Lodgepole Creek’s broad valley. The horses smelled the water a mile away and both picked up the pace, slightly.
Paddy watched the village come to life in the early-morning sunlight. Off to the west he saw two figures creeping through the tall grass beside the creek. Now, sure, and what would that be? That don’t look right. Why would Indians sneak away from their own camp? Wait. Something was different about those two. Sure, and they’re not Indians. One wore buckskin, but the other didn’t.
They’re white! Bloody hell! He knew those two. Jenny McNabb and Will Braddock. “Hey!” he yelled. He spit out his tobacco chaw to keep from choking on it. “Hey, ye bloody Cheyenne! Wake up!”
He pounded his heels into his horse’s flanks and slapped the reins back and forth trying to get more speed. The horse ambled along at a trot, more to reach the water than in response to Paddy’s wishes.
“Hey! Look alive ye mangy savages.” He forced the horse across the creek and up the far bank. The old horse fought the bit, wanting to stop in the creek to drink, but Paddy pulled up hard on the reins to keep its head out of the water. The packhorse, tied to Paddy’s saddle horn, had to follow.
The camp’s dogs barked and howled in response to Paddy’s shouting. Soon several Cheyenne were attracted by the commotion and came out to watch his approach. Since he’d been in the camp before, he was recognized and not challenged.
“They’re escaping! They’re getting away!” He pointed up the creek. “Sure, and ye’re letting Jenny and Will escape, and that’s the truth of it.” The Indians ignored him.
He rode as quickly as his old horse would go into the center of the camp and slid from the saddle. “Chief Tall Bear!” he shouted. “Where’s the chief?”
The elderly Cheyenne emerged from the council tepee. He held a hand out to stop Paddy’s approach.
Paddy excitedly waved his arm toward th
e creek. “Over yonder,” he pointed. “Well, d’ye see now, it’s that Will Braddock and that captive girl, Jenny McNabb, that are escaping. They’re sneaking off, don’t ye see?”
The chief shook his head.
“Well, now, where’s that half-breed Lone Eagle?” Paddy asked.
The chief spoke to a brave nearby. Paddy recognized the Cheyenne word for Lone Eagle. He’d heard it before. Hopefully the old chief was summoning the one person in the village who could speak English well enough to understand him.
The brave had been gone only a moment when he came racing back. He spoke excitedly to the chief, who followed the brave back through the ring of tepees. Paddy shrugged and trailed along. What’s going on?
Lone Eagle sat against a tree holding his head in his hands. While Chief Tall Bear and Lone Eagle were talking, Small Duck rushed up. She held out a shredded leather thong and screamed something that Paddy couldn’t understand.
Chief Tall Bear shouted instructions to several braves who had joined him. They dispersed rapidly.
Paddy looked at Lone Eagle. “Sure, and now what’s happening?”
“Will Braddock and Jenny McNabb have escaped.”
Paddy threw up his hands in disgust. “Well, sure, and if that’s not what I been trying to tell everybody.”
“Chief told the braves to find them.” Lone Eagle struggled to stand. He rubbed the back of his head. “I will go with them.”
“Aye, and I’m going too.”
CHAPTER 47
* * *
Will gripped Jenny’s hand tighter and brought her to a stop. He held a finger to his lips. “Sh.” Cupping a hand around his ear, he turned his head down the creek toward the Cheyenne village.
“That’s Paddy O’Hannigan all right. I thought that’s who rode into the camp shouting.”
“You’re right,” Jenny said. “I recognize that Irish brogue, even though I only talked to him one time.”
“He must’ve seen us and given the alarm. They’ll be after us now.”
Eagle Talons (The Iron Horse Chronicles: Book One) Page 21