Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  The man led Travis to a small corral and told him to take his pick of the aging beasts for ten dollars. Travis glanced at the animals and scowled.

  “The stallion one of your men shot was worth more than every horse you have on this fort. There isn’t a mount in this corral that would last three days. You find me a decent horse and I’ll pay you twenty dollars and throw in a rifle for your trouble. It’s a long way to Texas, and I don’t want my wife walking or riding double. I hold the Army to blame for our problem and I expect you to handle it fairly.”

  The offer of ten extra dollars and a rifle caught the man’s interest. He thought about some horses that had been delivered two days ago but had not been branded “U.S. Army” yet. Smiling greedily, he told Travis to follow him to another corral. As they were walking, the brawny corporal began to talk freely and genially to this man who was going to help him exist more comfortably until the next payday.

  “I hear you boys been having lots of Indian trouble over this way,” Travis remarked evocatively.

  “Yep,” the man replied as he rolled a wad of chewing tobacco around before settling it on the left side of his mouth. “Them Dog Soldiers and Sioux been giving us fits since last summer. If you ask me, they’re trying to take back Kansas and Colorado. Shame we can’t set ‘em to fighting themselves like we did those Cheyenne and Pawnee. Long as they’re fighting each other, they can’t fight us.”

  “How did you pull a trick like that?” Travis inquired with a grin.

  “The Army’s been giving the Cheyenne guns to make raids on the Pawnee camps. Soon as they kill ‘em off, we’ll light into the Cheyenne. Hell, if we could get rid of Tall Bull and Roman Nose, them Cheyenne wouldn’t know how to plan an attack. General Sheridan’s planning a big campaign to settle ever’body’s troubles out here. He’s got us guarding the settlements and roads till he gets his strategy together. After what he did to the South a few years back, ain’t no doubt he’ll have these savages under control by spring.”

  “If you have enough men left to fight by the time he gets here,” Travis added, then chuckled deceptively. “From the way it sounds, you’ve been losing a lot of men, to Indians and deserting.”

  “I guess you heard about Fetterman and his defeat. Lost over eighty men in that battle. That don’t include two whole detachments wiped out this past winter. When Colonel Custer passed through here not two weeks past, he found eleven cavalrymen slaughtered less than twenty miles from the fort. Circling buzzards lead ‘im to the bodies. Weren’t no pretty sight neither.” The corporal went on to describe in detail the incident that inspired the warning, “Save the last bullet for yourself.”

  “Custer? Is he fighting in these parts?” Travis questioned, having heard colorful war tales about that particular man. Travis himself had not fought in a war that had had nothing to do with him.

  “Yep. Seems like the Army is sending every ex-Union officer it can find out here. I suppose they think they can tame the West like they did the South. ‘Course Custer’s in a might of trouble these days. These last months he’s been ripping up and down the Republican River trying to whip them savages or send ‘em running. Guess he found out them Injuns fight harder and dirtier than them Rebs. Once he got into Colorado near them gold mines, he had men deserting in packs like hungry wolves. He was so mad he sent troops after ‘em, and he caught some of ’em. We wuz told he made his regiment march a hundred and fifty miles in less than three days, hardly givin’ ‘em time to take a piss. Word is he’s been placed under arrest for a list of charges long as my johns. I don’t know if he’s the biggest fool or the bravest man I ever met.”

  They reached the corral and Travis smiled as he eyed these new mounts. “Take your pick,” the corporal offered. “Where you heading in Texas?”

  “Pa and me got a ranch near Fort Worth. My brother was serving in the Army up in the Dakota Territory and got himself killed by a Sioux named Crazy Horse. Me and pa went up to fetch his widow. She was so pretty that I married her before we left the fort.”

  “That’s what I call taking care of your family real proper. Good thing she was willing, weren’t it?” the man teased, then winked.

  “With no money or family, she didn’t have much choice. Besides, I can be mighty persuasive when need be,” he replied mirthfully.

  The corporal laughed heartily. They talked on for a time as Travis craftily enticed more news from the corporal. After the deal was struck, Travis walked to the sutler’s post for a drink and to see if he could pick up more information. He also wanted to buy Rana a pair of shoes.

  As he was leaving, the corporal told him, “You head straight for Fort Dodge, then Fort Cobb, and you should miss them Cheyenne and Pawnee bickerings around Fort Larned. Them commissioners are trying to work out a treaty at Medicine Lodge and Fort Laramie. They’re just wasting their time; ain’t no treaty with savages gonna last.”

  Travis thought to himself that it wasn’t any wonder, considering the massacres taking place at innocent, helpless villages like the one at Sand Creek, which was less than seventy miles from Fort Wallace. The Indians had been given no reason to trust the white man or to believe his paper treaties. At least the Indian “Dog Soldiers” were raiding and fighting northeast of them, for they were the ones Travis wanted to avoid the most.

  Quickly returning to camp, Travis related the news to Rana and Nathan, withholding only tragic or alarming facts. “Nate, I think it would be best if we kept a guard posted tonight. I wouldn’t put it past those Indians to send a few scouts to this area. This fort is almost sitting in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of their territory. Rana, why don’t you keep a sharp eye while Nate and me take a nap. Nate can take the first night watch and I’ll take over at midnight. Then we’ll all have enough rest to be able to head out at first light.”

  Rana was delighted to be a part of Travis’s plans, and she was pleased that he thought so highly of her skills. Before he could lie down, she insisted on checking and rebandaging his injury. She was pleased to find that the flesh wound was healing quickly, just as she was pleased by the brown ankle boots in soft leather that he had purchased for her.

  Fortunately the night passed without any problems and at dawn they were already heading south. Travis kept on constant alert and set their pace accordingly. They covered a lengthy distance that day, halting to camp near Ladder Creek just as dusk dropped its shadows over the land. As he and Nathan had previously agreed, this would be the night of truth for Rana.

  While Nathan and Rana set up the camp and prepared their meal, Travis scouted the area in all directions. Satisfied that it was safe, he returned to camp to sit quietly and apprehensively.

  When everything had been cleared away and the three were sitting on mats near the campfire, Travis ventured hoarsely, “Rana, Nate and I have a few things to tell you. I’m not sure where to begin, so I’ll let Nate start by telling you about his daughter, Marissa. Please, just hear us out and stay calm,” he advised mysteriously.

  Rana looked from one man to the other, then settled her quizzical gaze on Travis. “I do not understand. What troubles you?”

  “Please, this is important to all of us. Listen to Nate’s words and trust us,” Travis coaxed worriedly, dreading her reaction.

  Rana focused her attention on Nathan. Slowly and painfully he described his daughter’s past: Marissa’s years on the ranch, her wild and impetuous ways, her willful marriage to Raymond Michaels, what Nathan knew of their life together, and her last visit home. As he told her of Marissa’s child, Rana began to fidget and breathe erratically, but still she held silent. He told Rana how Marissa and Raymond Michaels had been murdered and how his granddaughter had been kidnapped by the Kiowas. He told how he had looked for her for years, and finally had been forced to give up his futile search. He related the details of Thomas Mallory’s visit and its enlightening results. He described Rana’s birthmark and the scar she had received while visiting his ranch. “I’m your grandfather, Rana. My daughter, Marissa
Crandall, was your mother. You used to play with that necklace when you were a little girl,” he remarked when he noticed her rubbing it nervously between her fingers as she had done so long ago. He was glad Travis had repaired it and that she had agreed to wear it again. “Your mother left it at the ranch before she died. All these years I’ve hoped and prayed you were alive somewhere and that I would find you again. When I saw the painting of you, I cried with joy. Travis and I couldn’t leave Texas fast enough. We came to the Oglala camp to find you and to bring you home where you belong. You’re safe now, Rana. No one will ever hurt you again. Isn’t that right, son?”

  Rana whirled to look at Travis as he urged her to accept Nathan’s shocking words. Many thoughts and images filled her head and conflicting emotions assailed her. They had lied to her and tricked her! This older man was her grandfather by blood and birth… Travis was his “son"? No, that was only an affectionate name, she decided. Travis was a Kincade, part Indian from the Lakota lands. She eyed him intently, for his part in her life intrigued her most. She was his “mission?” All along he had come after her… She remembered his starting to call her Rana several times and the way he had attempted to question her about her past and memory. He had told her that “mistakes and evil deeds” could be changed or corrected. Were they telling her the truth? How could this be happening after all these years?

  Nathan described Marissa and stressed how much Rana favored her deceased mother. “You’re my flesh and blood, Rana. How could I not come after you and do anything necessary to get you back? It was too dangerous for you to live there. You don’t belong with Indians.”

  These revelations stunned her, and her heart drummed rapidly. She tried to resist the unexpected news. She was being taken away from all she had known and loved; and now he was telling her incredible things that denied even that reality. According to his words, she was not heading for a new destiny; she was returning to an old one that strangely frightened her, though she could not remember why. “Did you tell Lone Wolf these lies? Is that why he gave me to you? You tricked me,” she accused.

  Travis tried to explain his talk with Lone Wolf and their decisions, but as he had suspected, they did not sound logical or reasonable now. “We did what we had to do to get you free, Rana. Your grandfather loves you. He wants you to be safe and happy. Please understand.”

  Just like that, they had ridden into her life and were trying to change all she knew and was! Why would they speak such false tales? she wondered. “I do not understand. How can he love me? We are strangers. I am not his Rana Michaels. I am Wild Wind. I will return to my people.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Rana. As with the other tribes, the Oglalas will soon be herded like cattle onto reservations where freedom and privacy don’t exist but poverty and disease do. Oglala spirit will die in captivity. That’s no life for you. How long do you think it would take before soldiers or Indian agents found a way to get at you? They would force you to do whatever they wanted, and you’d have to do it to protect your people. If the Oglalas did resist reservation life or rebel against it later, all they would be able to do would be run and hide or fight and be killed. I’ve been on the run before; it’s nothing but hardship, pain, and death. We didn’t want that kind of misery and peril for you. Search your heart and head, and you’ll know Nate speaks the truth. Don’t be afraid to trust us and accept us. You belong on the ranch with us.”

  She glared at Travis. “You did not come to help my people. You came to steal me. You lied. You tricked me and betrayed me.”

  “Only because the Oglalas made it necessary. They said we could not trade for you and take you away unless I joined to you. It was to keep the other warriors who wanted you from challenging our rightful claim on you. You are Rana Michaels! You’re white, and Nate is your grandfather!” he stormed forcefully at her.

  “What coward lurks inside your body, White Eagle? Why do you wait until this moon to tell me such things, if they are true?”

  “Because we knew how you would react, just like you’re doing. We wanted to be far away from the camp so you wouldn’t try anything crazy like escaping. And we wanted to give you time to get close to us so you wouldn’t be afraid. How can you be angry because your family has finally found you and you’re going home? You should be happy about this news. I know it was wrong to trick you, and I’m sorry. It just sounded right and easy at the time,” he admitted.

  “That’s why you gave my people those guns and supplies? That’s why you asked for me in trade and joined to me falsely? Your words and deeds do not match, coward with a dark heart!”

  Her words rankled and he scoffed, “Wild Wind was known for her disobedience and stubbornness. I did it so we could get you free and take you home with the least amount of trouble and time. There’s a bloody war going on in that area, and we have a ranch to take care of. I wanted to get you and Nate out quickly and safely. And I didn’t marry you falsely, because our joining isn’t legal to whites, and we’re white. When you want to marry, you can choose your own husband, not be traded to a man like a possession. You’re free, Rana. Just like your mother, you can come and go as you please, and probably will.”

  “You did not like my mother?” she probed defensively.

  “I never knew your mother. I’ve only seen her portrait.”

  “I do not understand. Nate calls you son,” she pressed hesitantly.

  Her words and expression surprised Travis, who stared at her oddly. Suddenly he grinned roguishly as he shook his head and responded, “No, Rana, I’m not your uncle by blood, but I am by law. Nate adopted me as his son years ago, like Soaring Hawk adopted you as his daughter. My legal name is Travis Kincade Crandall, but most people know me as Travis Kincade. Your mother, Marissa, was Nate’s only child. During the first year after we met, Nate and I became best friends; we’re like a real family now. I’ve been living with him for seven years and working on his ranch as his foreman. I helped him get you back because I love him and I thought I was doing the right thing for him and for you. You’re smart enough to understand what we’re telling you; open your heart and accept the truth. All we’re asking for is a chance to correct the past. You have a home and a family. We risked our lives to claim you. Is this news so offensive?”

  “Travis is like a real son to me, Rana. I begged him to help me get you back. I’m sorry we all tricked you. Travis didn’t want to lie to you or marry you falsely; he did it for me and for you. The Indians made those demands and we didn’t have time to argue. We were forced to go along or they wouldn’t have let us have you. I was planning to give Travis my ranch until I discovered you were still alive. With Marissa dead, you two are all the family I have. When I die, I want the two of you to share the ranch. Will you come home with us? Will you give us a chance to make you happy? Will you try to understand and forgive us? All we wanted was you, my little Rana.”

  Rana watched the older man as he spoke. Had she discovered who she was at last, and where she had come from? she asked herself, wondering what these changes would mean to her. Nathan had touched and warmed her heart with his tale of suffering and dreams, but anger and fear had lodged there too. She thought about Travis, in light of this revelation. If she was Nathan’s granddaughter, and she suspected she was, it would explain why Travis had refused to touch her, despite the fact that he desired her and felt married to her in his Indian heart. No doubt, after hearing those awful tales about her, he had expected to dislike her and to find her easy to resist. He had planned to ride in, make a trade for her, then hand her over to her grandfather. The situation had turned on him because of Lone Wolf’s terms, and this intrigued her. Now Travis was caught in a painful trap—which served him right for deceiving her, she decided. He had teased her and tempted her with his kisses and gazes; now she could do the same to punish him, for he had no hold or power over her. Perhaps he too should be forced to learn a few things and to make a few changes…

  “I will think on your words and deeds before I speak what is in
my heart. This should not have been kept secret from me,” she declared aloud.

  Travis quickly concurred. “You’re right, Rana, but that can’t be helped now. We made a mistake. We’ve apologized and explained, so there’s little more we can do. I know you’ve endured many dangers and changes lately, and you’ve been facing them bravely and with skill. We’re very proud of you. But I wonder how much you learned from the Oglalas. Did you learn about patience and self-control? Are you smart enough to understand more than you can see? Or brave enough to face a new life? You’ve proven you have the courage and cunning to fight like a warrior, but can you behave like a woman? Can you feel and show love and kindness? Are you wise enough to accept what you know is true? And generous enough to offer us a truce and understanding? I said you were very special. I hope I wasn’t wrong.”

  Chapter Nine

  For the next few days, Travis watched the trail signs closely to keep them away from peril and people. From the evidence he found along the way, it seemed the Cheyenne and Pawnee were fighting bitterly over the land that had not as yet fallen under the control of the settlers or soldiers. He wished the Indians knew how the whites were duping them into killing off each other, for this was not the time for intertribal wars; this was a time to declare a truce in order to battle the more lethal enemy of both tribes. While the Indians were becoming fewer and weaker, the whites were increasing their numbers and strengths. Each year, more forts were being constructed on the Great Plains, more soldiers were being sent, and more settlers were arriving.

  After crossing the Sante Fe Trail and the Arkansas River, they skirted Dodge City and Fort Dodge because Travis had no idea how Rana would act among people, and he did not trust her to be left alone with Nathan. As he had been with Marissa, Nathan was becoming too lenient with Rana, for he was blinded by his feelings for her. Nathan did not believe she could do anything wrong, and he would never have corrected her if she had because he was too happy to have recovered her and feared losing her again. He had become totally enchanted by his granddaughter, and Travis prayed this girl would not hurt Nathan as her mother had.