by Zina Abbott
Sidney yelled at Tucker as he raced towards the melee. “Get away from my family. Let them go or I swear I’ll shoot.”
Leander reached him first, cocked the hammer of his pistol and pressed the barrel against the back of the miscreant’s head. “Let her go, Tucker.”
At the sound of Leander’s voice Tucker grunted as with a surge of strength he threw off his attackers. Meredith was suddenly freed as he swung around and buried the tip of his knife several inches in Leander’s left shoulder. Then, with a strength unmatched by most men, he pulled the knife free and swung it in a wide arch threatening anyone in the blade’s path. With his left hand he grabbed the barrel of Sidney’s rifle and pushed it up as he jerked it out of Sidney’s hands. As a grimacing Leander, who had stumbled back and dropped to his knees upon being stabbed, once again raised his gun hand, Tucker kicked the weapon from his hand. Mima had pulled Meredith free and, blocking her child with her own body, half carried, half dragged her daughter inside the front door of her house. Both Sidney and Jesse who had been moving towards Tucker halted and crouched in anticipation as Tucker gripped the bloody knife in one hand and held his pistol, swinging both weapons from side to side.
Tucker turned his focus on Leander. “I’m fed up with you and your uppity attitude, Jones, thinking you’re better than everyone else, just because your pa owns a trade store and a slew of wagons. I owe you a bullet for pulling a gun on me on our way out. But, I bided my time waiting for you to lead me to her. You’ve served your purpose.” Tucker raised his arm holding the pistol, the barrel aimed towards Leander as Leander, gripping his shoulder, struggled to regain his feet. “No need for you to keep breathing.”
“No!” Kizzie screamed and, ignoring the knife still gripped in his hand, threw herself at Tucker’s side to throw off his aim. Tucker stepped to the side and swung his arm, catching her in the throat and knocking her to the ground where she gasped for breath.
Jesse rushed to Kizzie’s side and pushed her flat to the ground. He fell on top of her. “Stay down, Kizzie. You can’t take him on and win. He’ll kill you.”
Tucker growled at Kizzie. “You’re next, little slut, soon as I finish him off.” Tucker swung back around, aiming his gun arm in Leander’s direction, the blood-lust shooting from his eyes.
A rifle shot rang out from the trees bordering the road.
Everyone in the yard momentarily froze in place. Heads twisted side to side to see where the shot had come from. Then all eyes turned on Tucker. A crimson circle of red blossomed in the left front of his chest and a larger exit wound tore a gaping hole in the right side of his back. Tucker’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he dropped to the ground within inches of Kizzie and Jesse. The knife made a thunking sound as it reached the ground before the man’s body. The unfired pistol remained caught in the fingers of his other hand.
Fighting back the urge to gag at the sight of Tucker’s fatal wound, Kizzie turned her head towards the trees to see who had come to their rescue. She recognized the silhouette of his head and the white adornment encircling his neck. She croaked out his name as she shook Jesse off her back and half crawled, half leaped towards Leander.
CHAPTER 9
“Leander…uh…” Kizzie glanced in her father’s direction as Sidney helped Leander to his feet. She noted his disapproving glare directed towards her at her familiarity with their guest. “…I mean, Mr. Jones, are you all right?”
Leander, holding his hand to his injured shoulder, grimaced as he responded. “Never felt better, Miss Atwell. However, I worried about you when you lunged towards Tucker. You shouldn’t try to take on a man like that by yourself.”
Annoyed, Kizzie struck a pose, her fists jammed against her sides. “Now you’re starting to sound like my papa. I thought we were all in this together. Everyone else was working to stop Tucker and rescue Meredith.”
“Now, Daughter, he’s right…” Kizzie tuned out her father’s rant as her eyes captured Leander’s expression full of admiration focused on her. However, at the sound of a horse slowly approaching the group, both she and Leander turned towards the rider.
Leander nodded towards Charlie Gray Cloud. “You have come to my rescue again, my brother.”
Charlie swung his leg over his pommel and he slipped to the ground. “It is a habit I have. When Tucker and his horse disappeared from the train shortly after you left, I decided it was best I see where he went.” Charlie walked over to Tucker’s body and used his foot to nudge the corpse on its back. He studied the dead man’s open-mouthed face. “The earth will welcome him but the world will not miss him. I will find his horse and a place we can bury him.”
“Not here!” Everyone turned at Kizzie’s cry of alarm. “I don’t want that monster’s body buried anywhere near where I live. I don’t even want to know where he ends up.”
Sidney narrowed his eyes as he studied his daughter. “Kizzie, please go in the house and make sure your mother and Meredith are all right. Take Mr. Jones with you so your mother can see to his knife wound. Jesse, you too. Stop staring at the dead. It will give you two nightmares.”
Jesse responded with a note of defiance in his voice. “Looking at him won’t give me nightmares. I’m glad he’s gone.”
“Regardless, son, I need you to go with Mr. Jones to your mother. If she needs anything outside, she’ll need you to fetch it for her.” Sidney turned to Kizzie, his one eyebrow raised. “Something tells, me, daughter, there’s a story behind Mr. Tucker being here. After we take care of this distasteful business, I’m going to want to hear it. Mr. Jones, where did you see this man’s horse?”
Kizzie sighed in resignation. She knew once her family learned about her first run-in with Tucker, they would bombard her with criticism and admonitions anew. Leander nodded his head in the direction of where Tucker’s nag was tied. Charlie remounted his horse and turned its head in that direction. Kizzie started towards the house followed by Jesse and her father helping Leander into the house. They were met at the door by Mima who, upon seeing the blood on Leander’s shoulder and dripping through his fingers, left to get some toweling for bandages.
Mima called to Kizzie as she darted out of the room. “Kizzie, please take Meredith into your room and stay with her. She’s still pretty upset.”
Kizzie fought back a surge of annoyance as she walked over to Meredith and gave her sobbing sister a hug. At Kizzie’s coaxing, Meredith pulled the blood-stained cloth she had been holding away from her neck so Kizzie could see. The sight of the barely scabbed-over wound caused by Tucker’s knife sobered her. Her sister had been through a lot. Holding her tight and using her body to shield Meredith from seeing Leander’s wound, Kizzie guided her sister up the stairs to their room. “Come on, Meredith. It’s all over and the bad man will never hurt you again. Let’s go tell your dolls all about it and let them know you are all right now.”
Kizzie felt Meredith’s head pressed to the side of her chest nod in agreement. Kizzie wanted to be downstairs to make sure Leander was really all right, but she realized her mother knew nursing better than she did. Right now, Meredith needed someone to help her feel safe. For the first time she began to understand what her parents meant when they fussed about her antics because they feared for her safety.
It was from listening to Meredith talk to her two dolls that she learned how Tucker had come knocking at the door. When Mima had answered, he had asked if the girl who rode the molasses-colored mare lived there. When their mother had asked him to please wait in the yard until her husband came back from the fields, he had barged his way into the kitchen saying he preferred to wait inside. He had pulled his knife out and laid it on the table, and, looking at it meaningfully, had asked for something to eat. Mima had cut two thick slices of bread and buttered them before she served them to Tucker along with some cold ham.
Kizzie chuckled to herself as Meredith dramatically described how Tucker had taken massive bites and talked with his mouth open as he told Meredith to come sit on the bench
at the table next to him. His tone had not been threatening at first. Meredith wrinkled her nose as she told her dolls how she felt reluctant to come near him. “He smelled really bad. I don’t think he ever took a bath.” But, after he kept insisting, she had finally come over and sat next to him.
It wasn’t until they heard the family and Leander bring the horses to the barn that Tucker had grabbed Meredith and forced her in front of him. As soon as they heard footsteps on the porch, he had grabbed the knife and put it to Meredith’s throat. Kizzie’s own throat tightened with fear as Meredith described to her dolls how frightened she had been, and how much it hurt when the tip of his knife poked her under her chin. Tears formed in Kizzie’s eyes when Meredith explained to the dolls how happy she was when her mama and Kizzie had come and got her away from the mean, dirty man and saved her.
Exhausted from the stress of the day and expressing her fears to her audience of dolls, Meredith soon lay down on her pillow and pulled her body into a tight ball. Kizzie unfolded the extra quilt they kept at the foot of their bed and gently placed it over her sister. She sighed with relief to see Meredith safe and able to talk about her ordeal without hysterics, even though she suspected it was not over for her sister. Kizzie anticipated being awakened by Meredith’s nightmares in the nights to come. After all, she had experienced her nightmares after her first ordeal with Tucker. For the time, though, Meredith was safe and settled. It was time for Kizzie to return downstairs to see how badly Tucker had injured Leander Jones.
Kizzie stopped and stared at the sight of Leander leaning his right elbow on the table, his hand covering his eyes. His brown and white plaid shirt had been removed. Kizzie would have appreciated studying the man’s bared torso except she noted his jaw clinch tighter as Mima pulled a thread through the skin of his shoulder as it seeped blood. With a shudder, she stepped onto the floor and slowly walked towards her family gathered around the kitchen table. To her surprise, her Uncle Jefferson, Otto and Grandpa Palmer had joined the group. A stack of rifles and shotguns leaned against the wall next to the front door.
Kizzie greeted the newcomers with a tentative smile. Then she stepped over to her grandpa and gave him a hug. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
Hugging her back, Edward Palmer looked up in her face. “We heard the warning shot from the shotgun. About the time I got my horse hitched to the wagon, Jefferson and Otto came galloping down the lane and we heard the second shot from the rifle. We were worried sick we had let up our guard too soon and the bushwhackers hit your place. What a surprise when we got here and saw a dead man sprawled in your yard.”
Kizzie’s smile did not reach her eyes. “He was a bad one, Grandpa. He scared poor Meredith half to death and me along with her. She had a long talk to her two dollies upstairs before she fell asleep. I think she will be all right—for now.”
Knotting the thread after the final stitch, Mima turned to her daughter. “Kizzie, please get that clean work shirt on top in your father’s trunk. I’m afraid his shirt is a loss unless we can mend that tear and get the blood stain out.”
Kizzie found her father’s shirt and returned to the front room. She watched with interest as her mother wrapped strips of torn sheeting around Leander’s shoulder and upper chest to hold the pad covering his wound in place. At her mother’s direction, Sidney stepped forward and helped support Leander’s arm as Mima helped him slide the new shirt on over his head.
Not sure where her desire came from, Kizzie wished she was the one holding his arm and helping him dress in the clean shirt.
Mima stepped towards the stove where she picked up a pot with steam billowing out the top. “I’ll fix him some willow bark tea to help with the pain. I’ll send some of the herb with you, Mr. Jones. It tastes bitter, but with some sugar or honey it is tolerable. Kizzie, please toss his old shirt in the mend pile.”
Kizzie grabbed the bloodied shirt and stared at it. She felt a sudden desire to keep the shirt as a memento of Leander Jones coming to their aid. She wadded it in a bundle and tucked it to the side of one of the stairs, determined to soak as much of the blood out as she could and wash it up after everyone left. She walked back to the table and cleared her throat. “Leander…ah, I mean, Mr. Jones, I’m so sorry you were injured while helping us fight off Tucker. I hope you’ll heal quickly and not suffer too much pain from it.”
Grandpa offered Kizzie a piercing look. “What about you, Kizzie-girl? Are you all right? I get the impression from what’s been said this wasn’t the first time you had a run-in with that polecat.”
Kizzie jerked her head towards Leander with a glare in her eyes. “What did you tell them?”
Leander turned pain-laced eyes towards her and cleared his throat. “Nothing, Miss Atwell. I told them it was your story to tell when you were ready.”
Kizzie rolled her eyes heavenward and took a step back from the group surrounding the table, aware everyone watched her waiting for her to speak. She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk about it. All everyone will do is get upset and tell me how foolish I was. Papa will start hollering about me behaving so unseemly and Jesse and Otto will start their frowning and tell me how stupid I was.”
Sidney immediately inhaled and began to rant. “Kizzie I’m disappointed in you. How dare you think I wouldn’t listen to you…”
Kizzie stamped her foot in annoyance. “Like you did at Fort Riley that day, Papa? Hostile Indians were threatening to massacre our family and I couldn’t get you to be quiet long enough to tell you, not until Uncle Jefferson pulled me aside and asked me to tell him.”
Mima had moved to her stove where she added water to the pot of beans that were bubbling. She reproved Kizzie with her quiet voice. “Be respectful of your father, Kizzie. That’s no way to talk to him.”
Kizzie turned to her mother who knew more of what had happened than anyone else in the room. She wondered if her mother had ever betrayed her confidence and told her father. Kizzie sucked in a deep breath and spoke as respectfully as she could manage in her current emotional state. “I try, Mama. Honest, I do. But all of you are so unwilling to respect me for who I am and what I try to do to help this family. On our way back from the fort, Papa finally admitted I had been brave by going to find them. But, that was only after I had to listen to him carry on about me being seen at the fort wearing trousers. After walking into the scene that greeted me when I got home today, I’m not up to listening to everyone finding fault with me right now.”
Silence filled the room. Then all eyes in the room turned towards the door at the sound of the knock. Otto reached over and opened it to reveal Charlie Gray Cloud.
Leander’s face broke into a grin. “Did you find his horse, my brother?”
Kizzie’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. As he had the first time Kizzie met him, Leander called Charlie his brother. Like before, Charlie responded with an almost imperceptible shake of his head as if warning Leander to not call him that. “Yes. Tucker’s horse is not happy carrying the dead body of his former master. I have them tied in the trees until we can find somewhere to bury Tucker.”
Kizzie glanced around the room and noted the confusion on the faces of many. She explained the relationship. “Mr. Gray Cloud and Mr. Jones are blood brothers. Because they trust each other, they’ve made a pact to treat each other like brothers.”
Her family seemed to accept her explanation although Kizzie noticed her Uncle Jefferson glance at Leander, then, with narrowed eyes, turn and study Charlie.
Kizzie turned to Sidney. “Papa, please make sure it is nowhere on our property or on the way to either Salina or Junction City. I don’t ever want to have to pass his burying place or know where he ended up.”
“We’ll see to it, Daughter.” Sidney pulled Kizzie into a shoulder hug. “Now, I promise I won’t get upset or say anything to embarrass you. Please tell us everything that ever took place between you and Tucker.”
“If you insist, Papa.” Kizzie glanced at her audience and felt an unacc
ustomed wave of shyness overcome her. She took a deep breath, and keeping it as short and unemotional as possible, told the story of her first encounter with Tucker, how she fought him off to save Sugarcone and how Leander had helped rescue her. When she finished, no one spoke for several seconds. Her papa’s face was flushed with the effort to not burst out a response, but he kept his lips clamped shut. Otto and Jefferson shook their heads. Leander’s eyes still held admiration as he graced Kizzie with a smile of support.
Jesse stepped forward and folded his arms. “I still think she should have let me ride to the fort instead of going herself.”
Kizzie rounded on her brother. “First of all, Jesse, it never occurred to you to ride a horse ahead of the main group to get help at the fort. You were already in the wagon where you were needed. Second, Sugarcone is my horse. If anyone was going to ride her, it was me.”
“You’re a girl, Kizzie. It’s not up to you to put yourself in danger like you did. Hannah understands that; why can’t you? You even admitted that Tucker had wicked plans for you because you’re female.”
“We were all in danger, Jesse. I’m sorry I’m not the perfect sister like what Otto has. I’m me, and that is what I decided was the best way to help.”
Otto stepped forward with a frown. “Why are you speaking against my sister, Kizzie? I thought you liked Hannah.”
“I do like Hannah. She’s my cousin and I love her. And I know how pretty she is with her blue eyes and blonde hair and I know how all the boys like her because she acts so feminine and sweet and would never do anything considered unseemly. I just get tired of everyone comparing me to her and criticizing me because I’m not perfect like her.”