“May I come along? I want to visit Morning Song.”
He hesitated, then finally gave in to her pleading eyes. “I’ll have to take a couple more men along for protection. Make sure you dress warm.”
She hurried to do his bidding. About an hour later, she hurried across the parade ground toward the Laramie River. Jacob and Isaac were waiting with a mount for her and five other soldiers by the ferry. She mounted and they surrounded her as Isaac led the party up the trail to the trading post.
The little settlement was full of Indians and trappers when they arrived about a half an hour later. Squaws stood around smoky fires patiently, but Sarah didn’t see her friend. Isaac pointed out Ben’s cabin, set off in a grove of trees by itself.
“I’ll keep Ben busy,” he promised.
After glancing nervously around, Sarah dismounted and hurried toward the cabin. No one answered her first knock, so she rapped harder. Finally the door opened, and Morning Song peered around the door.
“Say-rah,” she gasped. She started to shut the door, but Sarah saw the marks on her face and pushed her way in.
“Oh, Morning Song,” was all she could say for a moment. The young woman’s face was marred by ugly purple and yellow bruises. One eye was swollen almost shut, and her lips were split and puffy. Morning Song cried softly as Sarah took her in her arms.
Morning Song pulled away and wiped at her eyes gingerly with the hem of her apron. “Do not look at me, Say-rah. I know what you say.”
“Why have you stayed?” Sarah asked gently. “Didn’t you know I would take you in?”
Morning Song lifted her hands, palms upward. “Ben watch close. And he say if I leave, he make me sorry. He say he hurt Say-rah.”
With an exclamation, Sarah gathered the young woman back into her arms. “Don’t you worry about Ben. He can’t hurt me. The blue coats won’t let him.” She released her. “Get your buffalo robe and any possessions you want. You’re coming with me.”
Morning Song looked at her doubtfully, then realized she was serious and hurried to do as her friend said. Sarah looked around curiously as her friend tied all her belongings in a sheet. The cabin was furnished with crude wooden furniture for the most part, but there were a few surprising items. One was the ornately carved and lacquered bed and the other was a silver picture frame that held a picture of Ben with his arm around Sarah. It had been taken at the county fair last summer. How cruel Ben was, she realized, to keep a picture like this in front of Morning Song.
Five minutes later Morning Song was ready. Sarah opened the door cautiously and looked around. No one seemed to be paying any attention to the little cabin set off by itself. “You stay in the trees,” she told her friend. “We’ll meet you just over the knoll.” Morning Song nodded and slipped away soundlessly. Sarah hurried along the path and quickly mounted her horse. She told one of the soldiers to wait for Jacob while she took the others and started for home. Her heart pounded. If Ben looked out and saw her, he’d know for sure that something was up.
She looked back as she rounded the bend. There was no hue and cry, so she began to breathe easier. When she crested the knoll, she heard a scuffle and a cry to her right. “Morning Song,” she called. She urged her horse through the frozen brush with the soldiers following her. As she crashed through the thicket, she saw Morning Song struggling with Labe.
“Let go of her, Labe,” she ordered.
He looked up, his eyes startled. “Ben will have my hide,” he whined. “I’m s’posed to see she doesn’t get away. It’s nothing to you, Sarah.”
“Look at her, Labe. Go on. Look at her. Do you honestly think Ben has a right to beat her like that?”
Labe glanced at the Indian girl’s battered face and dropped his eyes. “I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen,” he murmured. “You know how Ben can be.”
“I know. Now let go of her.”
Labe’s hand fell away, and Morning Song picked up her bundle and scurried toward Sarah. Sarah reached out a hand and helped her swing up on the back of her horse.
“Ben ain’t goin’ to like it,” Labe said.
“I don’t care what Ben likes or doesn’t like. You tell him to stay away from me and Morning Song, or I swear, I’ll shoot him.” She nodded to the privates who had followed her, and they all crashed back through the thicket to the trail.
Isaac and the detachment were just rounding the crest of the knoll as they arrived. Isaac whistled when he saw Morning Song’s face. “Ben do that?”
Sarah nodded, her lips tight. “Thanks for keeping him busy.”
“No problem. We’d better hurry, though. He’ll be after us any minute. He said something about going home for lunch. As soon as he sees she’s missing, he’s going to be hunting for her.”
“He’ll know where to look. Labe saw us.” She quickly told him and Jacob the full story as they kicked their horses and galloped toward the safety of the fort.
When they reached the fort, Morning Song insisted on going to the Indian encampment. “I must see my father. He will wish to know,” she said.
Sarah agreed reluctantly and went to her quarters to wait for her friend’s return. She wasn’t at all sure Morning Song’s father would be able to defend her if Ben showed up.
Morning Song was barely out of sight when the front door crashed open and Ben stomped in. “Where is she?” he demanded.
Sarah rose from the chair. “Get out of here, Ben. I don’t know how you have enough nerve to show your face here after what you did to Morning Song.”
His face reddened. “She’s just a squaw! And I can do anything I want with her. She belongs to me just like my horse! No one complains if I discipline my horse, now do they?”
“She’s not a horse! And if I see you anywhere near her, I swear, I’ll shoot you.”
Ben laughed derisively. He strode across the floor and caught her by the arms before she could even flinch away. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up as she struggled to get away. “I like it when you fight me,” he whispered. She stopped her struggling instantly, and he laughed again before releasing her. “Run away, little rabbit. But you won’t escape me. I have plans for you.”
He leered at her, then stomped back out the door. “I’ll find her, Sarah. She’ll wish she’d stayed where she belonged. And you’ll wish you’d stayed out of it.”
Sarah let out a shaky breath as the door banged behind him. How had she ever thought he was attractive and kind? She shuddered. The door burst open again, and she flinched. But it was Rand.
“Are you all right?” he asked when he saw her white face.
She nodded, close to tears. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was afraid of Ben. He was truly mad. “He’s looking for Morning Song,” she stammered, then burst into tears.
Rand crossed the room in one stride and pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, Green Eyes,” he said soothingly. “We won’t let him take her.” He caressed her hair until the storm of weeping was past.
“I’m sorry,” she gulped. “I don’t cry very often. I don’t know what came over me.” She was very aware of his hand on her hair. That hand tightened on the back of her neck when she looked up.
She saw Rand swallow hard when she put a hand on his cheek. She searched his face and saw confusion mixed with a tenderness she’d hoped to find for weeks. “Rand,” she began. But the door opened and Amelia rushed in. She’d heard the story at Suds Row.
Rand stepped away quickly, and the moment was lost. Again. Would there never be time for them to sort things out? Sarah sighed.
§
Ben’s rage was overpowering as he stomped toward the Sioux camp. He hoped the Indians would try to stop him from taking Morning Song. He would love to smash a face or two. Although the face he really wanted to destroy was Captain Rand Campbell’s. As he walked in front of the officers’ quarters, he heard someone call his name. Startled, he saw a lovely red-haired woman motioning to him from her front porch.
“Mr. Croftner,” she called.
It must be the lovely Miss DuBois, he thought. She certainly was beautiful, if you liked the type. Cool and remote. “At your service,” he said, stopping at the foot of the porch steps.
“Won’t you come in, Mr. Croftner. I think we have something in common.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow, but followed her inside to the elegant parlor. “And what would that something in common be?” he asked.
“We both want to keep Sarah Montgomery away from Rand,” she said smoothly.
He stroked his chin. “Very true,” he agreed.
“I have a plan,” she said. Leaning forward, she explained her scheme, and he began to smile. It was superior in every way to his own. Sarah would learn his vengeance was terrible.
“Tell me more,” he said.
§
The next morning Sarah hurried over to the Indian camp to check on her friend, but the place was deserted. Every teepee, every pot was gone.
“They left,” one soldier told her. “I think they were planning to meet up with Big Ribs.”
At least Morning Song was out of Ben’s clutches, Sarah thought. When she came back in the spring, perhaps her spirit will have healed from Ben’s abuse. Sarah prayed so.
When she got back, Amelia and Jacob were still eating breakfast.
“What are you going to do today?” Amelia asked Jacob. Sarah sat down beside them and took a small helping of biscuits and gravy. Joel was still asleep, with only a tuft of his hair showing about the blanket.
“Wagon train’s due in this morning. Rand is leading a company of us to escort it as far as the Platte River bridge and then we’ll spend the night to be ready to work on the telegraph tomorrow morning. Don’t expect me back until suppertime tomorrow.”
“I’ll miss you.”
Jacob grinned and kissed her. “No, you won’t. You and Sarah have all kinds of things to do. It would be a good time to start on the stenciling around the doors and windows.” He got to his feet and picked up his hat. “I’ve got to get moving before the captain reports me.” He chucked her under the chin before striding out the door.
The girls followed him out onto the porch to watch the familiar scene of guard mounting. The strains of the fort band playing drifted over to the porch, then the commander shouted, “Boots and saddles.” The men swung up into their saddles in unison. The sun glittered off the men’s brass buttons and weapons as they filed out of the fort. The girls watched until the troop crested the hill and was hidden from view. Sarah wished Rand would have stopped by to say good-bye. He probably said good-bye to Jessica, though, she thought, choking back tears.
§
Rand spent the day scanning for hostiles as he plodded along on Ranger beside the slow-moving wagon train. Most of the soldiers begged to be allowed on escort duty since most wagon trains had women emigrants, but it was just another duty to him. The last thing he needed was another female to worry about; he still didn’t know what he was going to do about Sarah. He couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility he still felt for her. Jessica seemed to sense his turmoil. She’d been after him to move up the wedding day to next month.
By the time they camped, Rand was bone-weary. They’d chased off a group of about fifteen Sioux, then followed them a short distance before turning back and continuing on toward their destination. At one point, Rand had one young brave in the sights of his Henry, then dropped his gun. He just couldn’t do it. The youth was probably only fifteen, although he looked like he’d seen battle before—he had a livid scar running down one cheek. The brave had stared at him defiantly as Rand sighted down the barrel of his gun. When Rand let the muzzle fall, the brave lifted his spear in his hand and wheeled around with a bloodcurdling yell.
“That there was a mighty big mistake, young feller.” Rooster had seen the exchange. “You’ll likely run into him again, and he won’t be so charitable-like.”
Rooster was probably right, Rand thought as he crawled into his bedroll. But the brave had reminded him of Shane. The same careless free spirit. Rand just couldn’t kill him.
§
The weather turned frigid and stayed that way. Days went by with no relief. Finally just before Christmas, Rand informed them all they could bundle up and attend a party at Old Bedlam. The mercury had crept up to twenty degrees—almost balmy compared to where it had hovered for weeks. The Laramie Minstrels band played, and Sarah danced until she thought her feet would fall off. Isaac claimed his share of dances as well as every other officer at the fort. Several times she saw Jacob glower as Amelia swept by on the arm of yet another soldier. She knew just how he felt when she saw Rand dancing with Jessica.
Halfway through the party, a sentry rushed in. “Colonel, Spotted Tail is at the Platte!”
Colonel Maynadier jumped up. “Raise the white flag and get my horse ready.” He turned to Rand. “Captain, I hate to drag you away from the festivities, but I need you to accompany me. We’ll ride out to meet Spotted Tail and assure him of our good intentions. This is what I’ve been waiting and hoping for. He’s been with Red Cloud. If Spotted Tail is ready for peace, perhaps Red Cloud is, too.”
Rand nodded. “I’ll meet you at the corral, sir.” He pushed his way through the throng and found Sarah. “The party’s over.” She was pink-cheeked and breathless from a rousing round of the gallop. “I have to go,” he explained.
“Not now! This is the first time we’ve been out of the quarters in weeks.” Sarah was unable to keep the dismay and disappointment out of her voice. The break had come at just the right time, and now she felt like crying as the party broke up and everyone trailed back to their quarters.
By the time Colonel Maynadier’s group of officers had mounted, they could see the column of Brule’ Sioux over the rise. The wind carried the chanting to them.
“Sounds like a death lament,” the colonel said with a frown.
As they drew nearer, they could see Spotted Tail’s face drawn with grief, and he dragged a travois with a shrouded body behind his horse.
A messenger rode forward and stated Spotted Tail’s request. His daughter had died on the trail, and she’d begged to be buried in the white man’s cemetery. Maynadier quickly agreed and Spotted Tail rode forward to talk with the colonel.
“My heart grieves at your loss, my friend,” Colonel Maynadier said as the sorrowing Indian pulled up in front of him.
Tears welled up in Spotted Tail’s eyes. “My heart is very sad, and I cannot talk on business; I will wait and see the counselors.”
Rand and Jacob looked at one another in dread as the chief turned away. Rand had known it was Sarah’s friend as soon as he saw her face.
“You tell her,” Jacob said.
§
Sarah was stitching on a lapful of quilting material in her lap when Rand strode into the parlor. The lamp light cast a soft glow over her glorious hair, and Rand caught his breath. She seemed to get lovelier all the time, he thought. He cleared his throat and she looked up.
“What is it?” She knew it was bad news by the grim set of his jaw.
He came forward and took her hand. “I don’t quite know how to tell you except to just say it.” He took a deep breath and taking off his hat, raked a hand through his hair. “It’s Ah-ho-appa. She’s dead, Sarah. Pneumonia.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been a hard winter, not enough food. She was too weak to fight the lung infection.”
Sarah stared at him. He didn’t know what he was saying. There was no way that bright life could be snuffed out.
“I’m sorry. I know you loved her.”
Sarah shook her head. “There must be some mistake.”
“There’s no mistake. I saw her myself. Her father has asked for her to be buried in the soldier cemetery. He said she wanted to marry a soldier.” His face twisted bitterly.
Sarah put her face in her hands and wept. Her smiling Ah-ho-appa. How could she be dead? “It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “If she hadn’t been friends wi
th me, she would have been content with her life. She would have married some young brave who would have taken care of her.”
Rand took her hands and drew her to her feet and into his arms. “I’m sorry, Green Eyes. But you did all you could for her. At least she didn’t go through what Morning Song did.” Rand held her until her weeping was over. “The funeral’s tomorrow. I’ll take you if you want.”
She nodded. “I must tell her parents how much I loved her.”
The next day several hundred mourners, consisting of Indians, off-duty soldiers, Colonel Maynadier, as well as Major O’Brien, who had arrived to take over command of Fort Laramie, attended the funeral.
Sarah wept as she saw the sorrowing parents and heard the story of the Indian princess who wanted to marry an army officer. It brought home to all those around that the Indians weren’t some creature not quite human, but real people with emotions and pain. She knew she would never forget the grief in the mother’s face.
When the funeral was over, she pushed through the crowd while Rand followed her. Tears were streaming down her face as she touched the girl’s mother on the arm. The squaw looked at her with pain-shocked eyes as Sarah fumbled with a ruby pin her father gave her on her fifteenth birthday. She pressed it into the mother’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
The woman stared at her, then slowly pinned the brooch to her shawl before pulling a row of beads from her own neck and placing them around Sarah’s throat. “Wash ta cola,” Sarah whispered as the woman turned to go.
The Indian nodded, a weary smile flitted across her face so quickly Sarah wondered if she imagined it. Then she followed her husband, both of their heads bowed in grief.
Rand was watching her, his brown eyes warm with approval. “That was a nice thing to do. You’ve probably made a friend for life.”
Her eyes filled again. “Ah-ho-appa was my friend. I’ll never forget her. But I did tell her about Jesus, and she prayed for salvation. I can only hope she truly understood.”
He nodded soberly, a little uncomfortable with her talk of religion, although he was proud of the way she’d acted. “I know it’s hard for you, Green Eyes. It’s all so different out here. You’re used to activity and fun. It’s pretty dreary confined to those small rooms all the time and never being allowed to go outside the fort. If the weather holds, how about going skating on the Laramie River tomorrow after worship services?” An army chaplain had come to Fort Laramie two days ago and they were looking forward to attending church on Sunday.
Where Leads the Heart Page 12