Cheyenne Captive

by Georgina Gentry - Iron Knife's Family 01 - Cheyenne Captive

  Cautiously he circled the white man, feeling the blood from the whip slashes running down his body as the torn buckskin fell away.

  “I was jest playin’ with you that time,” the scout sneered. “Now I’m gonna take your eyes out one at a time like I did a Greaser once at Sonora! You ever seen an hombre stumblin’ around with his hands over empty eye sockets? Take a good look at your woman, ’cause it’s the last look you’re ever gonna get!”

  Desperately Iron Knife tried to decide if he dared charge in under the lash or if he should take a chance on throwing his big knife from here and catching the other in the throat. If he missed with his blade, he would be completely defenseless. He knew from past experience that Jake Dallinger would have no qualms at all about whipping him to death in front of Summer.

  He looked toward the girl. She stood almost directly behind the scout as he flicked the whip back over his shoulder, spreading the lash to aim so he could make good his promise to blind Iron Knife with his next move. Iron Knife dodged as the lash came down with all the power of the man’s arm. He wasn’t fast enough. The snakelike leather cut into his arm and Summer screamed.

  Futilely he glanced toward his love, thinking what would happen to her if Dallinger killed him. The whip kept him too far out of range to fight effectively. He only had one chance now. He paused, steadying himself, trying not to see Summer trembling with fear in the background behind the scout. Then, he threw the big knife, its hilt red with blood that had run down his arm. Almost, he got Jake, but the fur vest deflected the blade ever so slightly. The scout jerked away and it clattered harmlessly to the ground.

  “You brown bastard!” Jake screamed, and then seemed to realize for the first time that Iron Knife was completely defenseless.

  He spread the whip lash behind him and advanced menacingly on Iron Knife. “Now, Injun! Now we finish this!”

  Slowly Iron Knife backed toward his horse. If he could reach it, there was a bow and arrows and his short Dog Soldier quirt. Dallinger moved toward him, licking his lips, the whip lash trailing along behind him, the other hand on his big Bowie knife. Unless some miracle occurred, Iron Knife was going to be whipped to death before the two women and the semiconscious lieutenant.

  But he hadn’t counted on Summer. His mother had once saved his life and Summer had, too. Now she did it again. She ran up behind the scout, wrapped her hand in the trailing end of the lash, and hung on even as the scout brought the whip up for the savage blow. But her tenacious gesture stopped his move.

  “Why, you little bitch! Let go of that!” he swore at her, jerking viciously on the lash. But Summer hung on, even though Iron Knife could see the blood on her hands as the whip cut into them.

  Dallinger turned around and charged her like a maddened bull, bringing back his arm to strike her with the heavy silver butt. Her action had delayed the scout’s an instant. But that instant was all Iron Knife needed.

  Deftly he charged in, colliding with the huge man as he tackled him. They both went down, rolling in the bright spring flowers. As they fought and tumbled, the scout let go of the whip and Iron Knife saw Summer grab it up in her bleeding hands and toss it away into a gully where it lay, its silver handle gleaming dully.

  Iron Knife hit Dallinger with the pent-up rage and force he had saved for all these years. “This is for the beating you gave me as a boy!” He hit him again. “And this is for the misery you caused Texanna and what you planned for Summer!” He struck him again and again.

  But the scout came back, roaring like an enraged animal and swung his fist into Iron Knife’s jaw. He tasted the salty taste of his own blood as the fist cut his mouth. Iron Knife grabbed the other by the neck, but Dallinger broke his hold and slammed him back against a boulder.

  Iron Knife picked up a broken branch and swung it hard against the other’s throat. The man fell, strangling and coughing under the hooves of the rearing, plunging horses as the fight continued beneath their feet.

  “I’ll kill you for that!” Dallinger choked out, “like I should have done years ago in Texas!”

  Iron Knife swung with a hard fist against the huge man’s jaw. “And this is for what you did to Kate! You cowardly woman killer!” He hit him again and they meshed and tumbled across the grass.

  Iron Knife could see Summer running back and forth, trying to do something to help, not seeming to know quite what to do. She grabbed up the rifle, tried to fire it, tossed it away as it jammed.

  His attention diverted, Dallinger hit him, knocking Iron Knife backward. “When I finish with you, Injun, I aim to enjoy your woman!”

  But Iron Knife swung again and made contact with the other’s chin. It was a dull sound like a great buffalo bull makes when it goes to its knees. “I promise you this, Dallinger! You have raped your last woman!”

  But the big scout staggered to his feet, tackled Iron Knife about the knees, and brought him crashing. Dallinger’s mouth dripped blood and he roared like an ahke, the Cheyenne legendary monster, as he fumbled for the Bowie knife in his belt. “Now!” he roared. “Now it’s time to get serious!” He had Iron Knife flat on his back, trying to bring the big Bowie down for a final thrust.

  Iron Knife tried to hold the man’s wrist. He could see the sun glinting off the blade, hear the fat woman’s screams. Summer attacked the scout from behind with her fists, beating him about the shoulders and head.

  Like slapping at a worrisome fly, Dallinger swung at Summer, striking her and knocking her away from him. That second his attention had been diverted by Summer enabled Iron Knife to grab the scout’s wrist and twist it as he threw the big man off him by sheer superior strength.

  And abruptly Iron Knife had the big Bowie! He swayed to his feet as he glanced toward Summer. She lay like a damaged doll, blood running from the corner of her small mouth as she struggled to get up.

  Iron Knife’s fury flared out of control as he saw the injured girl. “And this is for Summer!” He came in fighting and slashing like a deadly machine. With one flashing stroke, he gelded the scout with his own knife.

  The man went down, screaming in anger and disbelief. Iron Knife moved in for the kill. But Summer had staggered to her feet and gripped his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t kill him, Iron Knife! I can’t bear to see even that beast killed because of me! What you have just done to him is punishment enough for any man!”

  He paused, the bloody Bowie knife dropping from his nerveless fingers. Dallinger clutched himself and went to his knees, moaning and cursing. “You’ve gelded me!” he choked out in disbelief, “like a rancher does a steer!”

  Iron Knife went over to reclaim his own knife and lance, then stopped to inspect Summer’s injuries. She had only a cut lip and few bruises. “You’re right, Summer,” he said, glancing toward the whimpering scout. “To castrate a great bull and turn him into a steer is punishment enough!”

  The plump woman knelt by the injured lieutenant who sat up against a tree.

  Iron Knife asked the puzzling question as he looked at Summer. “What are you doing here in the Rockies? I thought you went back to Boston?”

  He could not be sure of her emotions as she looked up at him since her eyes filled with tears. “We came looking for Austin’s brother. We thought he was lost but he isn’t after all. I thought you were dead in the raid or I never would have left on the train!”

  “And I thought briefly that you were the one who betrayed the Cheyenne, but it was Gray Dove instead.”

  The officer moaned and Summer turned and ran to him. “Austin! Are you all right?”

  Iron Knife watched with a sinking heart as she touched the man’s face, looked into his eyes almost tenderly.

  “I’m okay, just a little stunned,” the bluecoat answered as he took her hand and stumbled to his feet. “What happened?”

  “May the saints preserve us!” the fat woman exclaimed. ”That evil rascal!” She pointed toward Dallinger sitting helpless on the ground. “That terrible man was intending to steal your money and kidnap M
iss Summer, but that savage showed up in time to save us all!”

  Iron Knife glared at the man leaning against the tree. So this was “Austin,” the man she had called for in her delirium, the man from Boston. “I have sworn to kill any man who tried to take her!” he remembered aloud, fingering the hilt of the big knife.

  “No, don’t kill him!” Summer flung herself protectively in front of the injured man. “Please don’t kill him!”

  Iron Knife looked at them both a long moment. She loved Austin after all. It would tear his heart out to leave her but if Austin was the man she wanted, he would not kill him or force her to go with the Dog Soldiers. He would never do anything to make her cry.

  Resolutely he strode over, caught up the reins of the Appaloosa. His old friend nickered a welcome. Iron Knife took the saddlebags and tossed them to the lieutenant’s feet. “I suppose this belongs to you like everything else around here.”

  With a heavy heart, he mounted up. Iron Knife looked back at Summer one more time, loving her still as he reined the Appaloosa around to ride out. “No, Little One,” he said gently. “If you love this man, I won’t kill him. I give you his life as a wedding gift.”

  He took one last look at her and started to ride away.

  Summer looked back at him as he started to ride out of the camp. As she watched him leaving, she saw a vision, a vision of a young Irishman walking away through the snow because her mother had made the wrong choice and let love walk out of her life forever.

  “Iron Knife, wait!” she called out impulsively.

  He reined in his horse, looking back at her questioningly as she stood by Austin’s side.

  But Austin put a restraining hand on her arm and looked at her with stricken eyes. “Summer, you couldn’t possibly think—? I mean, you wouldn’t—”

  She hesitated, looking from one man to the other. She could have either one and they both awaited her decision. And it was not only a choice between two men: they offered two different worlds, two different civilizations, two different lives.

  Austin gripped her arm frantically as she failed to respond. “No, Summer, you can’t be thinking that! You know I can offer you everything! Money! Clothes! Jewels! Social position! We’ll go anywhere you want, Europe, maybe! I have money and the power to give you anything you desire!”

  Iron Knife stared at her impassively and sighed. “He’s right, Little One. Stay with him. I know he will take good care of you. He has everything to give and I have nothing at all except my love. Take care of her,” he ordered Austin and turned again to ride out.

  Almost on a scale in her mind she weighed the two men’s words and knew they both spoke the truth. The white one offered her everything in the world, the brown one nothing but his love. But real love can’t be bought and her heart belonged to the Indian. The scales came down in his favor with a final thud.

  “Wait!” she called out desperately, looking from one man to the other. As the warrior halted the stallion and looked back, she slipped the big sapphire and diamond ring slowly from her hand and laid it in Austin’s palm.

  “You can’t do this!” Austin gasped in horror. “The tribes are running on borrowed time! It will only be a little while before the army kills them all or sends them to reservations!”

  Iron Knife nodded in agreement. “Already the Cheyenne are being hunted down and slaughtered like the fierce timber wolves! Our time is fast running out and my world is full of danger and hardship! There is no place at my side for a rich, Boston girl like Summer Van Schuyler.”

  But she ran out and caught the stallion’s stirrup as the brave started to ride away. She looked up into his eyes and in that instant she made a final decision; the one with her heart. She knew in that instant who she really was. And in that moment, she closed the book on her past forever.

  “Summer Van Schuyler? I don’t know that spoiled, white girl,” she said in soft, halting Cheyenne words. “I am Summer Sky of the Hevataniu band of the Tsistsistas, and I am Iron Knife’s woman!”

  She saw the sudden glint of moisture in his eyes and his jaw worked as he seemed to remember his long-ago words.

  “Are you sure?” he asked slowly, looking at her.

  She held up a hand to him. “I am very, very sure!” she answered in Cheyenne.

  Only she saw his strong hand hesitate ever so slightly before he reached down and took hers, lifting her to the saddle in front of him.

  Austin swayed toward them, staring up at her with disbelieving eyes. “Have you lost your mind, Summer? You can’t do this! Think of the consequences!”

  “I’m sorry, Austin, I didn’t mean to hurt you but I’m not sure we could have made a go of a marriage. You see, you wanted a shy, retiring Boston-type girl and I wanted to be a man’s partner, his equal. I belong in this frontier country. I belong with this man!”

  Just then the war party rode in and there were only four others: Two Arrows, Lance Bearer, Clouds Above, and one of Pretty Flower Woman’s brothers.

  “We have lost the patrol and come back for you as you told us,” Two Arrows said. “But we must ride fast! They are not far behind us!”

  “We are ready to ride out!” Iron Knife answered. “I have everything I came for!”

  But Mrs. O’Malley ran forward and looked up at Summer. “Holy Mother of God, Lamb!” There was consternation on her plump face. “What on earth will I tell your family?”

  Summer hesitated. For her remote father and her strange, hostile little sister, she had no message at all.

  “Tell David I wish him love and luck and maybe our paths will cross again someday,” she answered.

  “And your mother! What in the name of goodness will I tell her, Miss Summer?”

  She thought of Priscilla, lost in the past because of a long-ago love, playing Shawn O’Bannion’s little music box over and over.

  “Tell Mother the man we spoke of New Year’s Eve wasn’t dead after all and I decided to take her advice. She’ll understand.”

  The old Irish maid looked up at her, puzzled. “Saints preserve us, what did she say to you?”

  Summer saw the image of her mother’s tragic face before her. “Tell Priscilla that I got a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime love. Like she told me, I ran after him, damned the consequences, and didn’t look back!”

  She leaned against Iron Knife’s big chest with a sigh. She was safe and loved, she thought, closing her eyes. No one would hurt her as long as she had her love’s arms encircling her. But as the little war party turned to ride out, the cavalry patrol rode in. In seconds, the five Indian ponies were surrounded by the soldiers, each pointing a rifle at the braves.

  The lanky sergeant turned to the lieutenant. “Okay, sir, we got them! What shall we do now?”

  All looked toward Austin’s face and Summer held her breath and pleaded with her eyes. He could wreak vengeance on his rival now, take them back to the fort. He might think he could regain her love if he hanged the Indians or threw them in prison. Should she barter with him? Offer to desert her love if Austin would only let Iron Knife leave in peace without her?

  But as she studied him, she saw a different Austin, a more decisive Austin than the one she had always known. He straightened up and he seemed almost like a self-confident, seasoned officer.

  “No, Sergeant,” he ordered in a firm voice. “Let these people ride out. They’ve done nothing wrong. But get a rope and tie up Dallinger!”

  He gestured toward the scout sitting moaning on the ground. “I’ll tell you the whole story later, but it looks like he may do time in the stockade for everything from attempted robbery to attempted murder! One of you men go look for that big whip! If at all possible, I’m going to see he gets a public lashing back at the fort! But first, we’re riding on in to Denver to see about my brother!”

  “Yes, sir!” The Sergeant snapped him a salute and Summer saw the new respect in the man’s eyes.

  Austin turned and looked up at her. She saw the love in his eyes and she was sorry she couldn�
�t love him enough.

  “Be happy!” he said gently.

  “Thank you, Austin,” she whispered. “I’m sorry it had to end this way for you. What will you do now?”

  He shrugged. “I may just stay here in the West and serve with the cavalry. I like this country! Maybe I’ll end up joining up with my friend Custer somewhere. I’ll decide all that later!” He tipped his hat to her and tried to give a brave smile. “I somehow always knew that you wouldn’t be mine. And I suppose you are leaving with the one man who loves you as much as I do.”

  “I love her even more!” Iron Knife declared, and there was respect in his voice as he nodded to the lieutenant. “You have been a fair man, Lieutenant. May the great god Heammawihio smile on you!”

  Summer sighed and leaned back against his chest, feeling his big arms gripping her possessively as the war party rode out of the clearing.

  She didn’t look back as the horses started down the mountain trail. This was her man! She had chosen him, and of all the places she could spend the rest of her life, she wanted to spend it in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The war party returned to the camp in the Big Timbers not too far from Bent’s Fort. It seemed to Summer the whole band had turned out to welcome them.

  “The war party has returned!”

  “The men have come back!”

  “Look! Iron Knife has reclaimed his woman!”

  They were cordial and friendly. Pony Woman and Pretty Flower Woman, who was round with pregnancy, came running to Iron Knife’s tepee with clothing for Summer. She visited with them and put on the deerskin shift and the soft moccasins, glad to be rid of the uncomfortable Boston clothing. She gave the clothes to any eager squaw who wanted them, keeping only the small locket with the painting of her mother.

  Iron Knife went off to report to the old chiefs in detail about the journey.