Authors: Georgina Gentry
Colt (4 page)
Everyone left reluctantly except Colt, the major, the balding doc, and Olivia and her squat, scar-faced Tonkawa servant girl.
Colt said, “I'll have an orderly get some water boiling and, Doc, you've got a washtub?”
He nodded. “Miss Murphy, if you'd get her some underclothes and a dress, we'll see what we can do.”
Colt paused at the door. “Olivia, I'm not sure you can handle her, she's strong and taller than you.”
“Nonsense. We can't have men handling a naked girl. It's my Christian duty to help this poor thing. You see about getting some hot water.” She gave Colt her most winsome smile.
“You're a wonderful, caring person.” Colt's heart warmed toward the beauty. He went out the door to get the water heating.
In a few minutes, he was back. The girl still sat on the bed in her filthy deerskin shift with Doc and a soldier standing guard. Olivia came in the door just then with an old dress and some underwear. “I'll look through my shoes tomorrow. I don't think she'll need them tonight.”
Doc pulled a big washtub out in the middle of the floor. “All right, Lieutenant, bring in the hot water. I've got some soap.”
“Goodness gracious,” Olivia scolded. “Don't use that old lye soap. I've brought some of my perfumed, French soap for the poor thing.”
Colt smiled. “Olivia, you've got a big heart. That fancy soap needs to be rationed. You aren't going to be able to find it here in Texas.”
Olivia simpered and blinked her long eyelashes. “It's the least I can do. I feel so sorry for her.”
In the meantime, the girl seemed to be resigned to sitting on the bed, watching the proceedings.
“Well,” said Doc, “I guess we'd better leave, Lieutenant. I think the ladies can handle this.” He nodded toward Olivia and her stoic maid. He went out the side door to his quarters.
Colt looked down at the girl. He didn't think Olivia and her maid could deal with her. He leaned over and whispered to Olivia. “She may be a bit loco. I'll be right outside the door if you need help.”
He went out the door, closed it, and leaned against a post of the porch, rolling a cigarette. It had been a long night and he was bone tired. He was now wondering if he'd done the right thing in bringing the girl back. She wouldn't be the first one to be returned to civilization and mostly, the women didn't readjust well and white society didn't seem to know what to do with them anyway. Sometimes their husbands didn't want them because they'd been used by savages and no one else wanted them either. He felt pity for the tall, slender blonde. Knowing Spider's cruelty, the girl had withstood brutality and, yes, if he wanted her, he might try to come get her, even if he had to invade the fort. Colt remembered how she had fit into his arms, trembling and thin, needing his protection, but still defiant, spirited, and without a tear.
She must be a Texas girl, all right.
She must be a Texas girl, all right.
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Inside, Hannah watched the two women preparing the tub of steaming water. It had been a long time since she had had a good bath. The Comanche people swam in lakes and streams, but so often, there was not even enough water to drink on the arid plains, much less enough to bathe in. It looked so inviting, that tub, but these white people weren't going to let her leave and she had to leave, she had to get back or Spider would be furious to find her gone when he and the other warriors returned from their hunting trip.
The elegant, petite girl turned to her with a smile. “Look, we've fixed you a bath. Will you get in?”
The language took her a moment to understand because she hadn't heard English in almost four years. She stood up and pulled off the filthy deerskin garment and moccasins. Her blue gingham dress had dissolved in tatters long ago.
Hannah nodded, and stepped into the tub, reached out her hand for the soap. What was the word? “Please,” she said.
The delicate lady smiled and handed it to her. “That's more like it. Maria, help wash her back.”
Hannah frowned at the Tonkawa as the maid knelt stoically and began to wash her. Tonks and Comanches were enemies, and she wouldn't trust the Tonk not to try to drown her. Oh, but the hot water and soap felt good. Hannah closed her eyes as the pretty one named Olivia smiled with satisfaction and sat down in a chair to watch. Hannah didn't like this delicate beauty, but she wasn't sure why. She sensed the major's daughter was really shocked and disgusted by the captive, but wanted the men to think she was kind and thoughtful.
Hannah was clean now and wondering what to do about her hair. Just then, Olivia got up off her chair. “I'll help wash your hair.”
Hannah decided to let her, but Olivia's dainty hands were not gentle. She soaped Hannah's head, pulling at her hair as if she really wanted to hurt her.
“I'll do it,” Hannah said, but Olivia was now pushing Hannah's head under the water of the tub. “You dirty savage,” Olivia whispered. “Stop splashing, you're getting my dress wet.”
Hannah came up gasping and threw both hands full of water at Olivia. “Stop it! You're drowning me!”
Olivia tried to push her head under again, but this time, Hannah came up out of the tub and grabbed Olivia, dumping her into the tub of dirty water while the maid stood by, blinking in surprise.
Hannah had to get back to the Comanches. She grabbed up her filthy buckskin and ran for the outside door, dripping wet and soapy. Maybe all the men had gone to bed and she could steal a horse and get away.
Colt was smoking his cigarette and relaxing when he heard the commotion from inside and Olivia's scream of indignation. He tossed away his smoke just as the door flew open and a slender, naked wet girl came running out. “Oh, no, you don't!”
He grabbed the captive and she was so wet and soapy he had a difficult time hanging onto her while she bit and fought him. However, he was stronger than she was and he hung onto her, too aware of her slender waist, long legs, and big breasts.
Olivia came to the door and she was wet, angry, and weeping. “I was trying to wash her and she tried to drown me. That's all the thanks I get for trying to help this poor, unfortunateâ”
“I'm so sorry,” Colt said, hanging onto the fighting girl. “I reckon she's too much for a lady to handle.”
Olivia's eyes widened with horror. “Goodness gracious. She's naked, Lieutenant, and youâ”
“Get me something; a towel, anything to wrap her,” he ordered.
With a fresh flood of tears, Olivia ran back inside as Colt carried the struggling girl into the infirmary. Now Olivia came forward with a towel and a dress. “She's just a savage, that's all, and I was trying to do my Christian dutyâ”
“It'll be all right, Miss Olivia,” Colt soothed her. “Here, give me the towel.” He plunked the girl down on a bed.
“No, this just isn't civilized,” Olivia protested. “Let my maid dry her off and put this dress on her.”
“You sure she's up to it?” Colt stared at the stout Indian woman, who looked doubtful.
“Well, maybe it'll take all three of us.” Olivia blushed and the three of them tackled the task of drying and dressing the captive. “I'm so sorry, Lieutenant. I know this must be embarrassing for a gentleman.”
“Not much embarrasses me, miss,” he said through clenched teeth as they got the girl into the chemise and drawers, then into Olivia's cast-off blue dress. Her hair was still a soapy mess and she managed to hit Olivia in the face as she struggled.
The major's daughter burst into a fresh flood of tears. “Did you see what she did? She did that deliberately. Why, she's like a savage herself.”
The girl stopped struggling and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Colt took out a handkerchief and offered it to the weeping girl. “I'm so sorry, Miss Olivia. She's just more than a lady like you can deal with.” He turned to the now-wet maid. “Go get Doc. Maybe he can get some food and some medicine down her.”
The girl looked up at him as the maid left. She was prettier now that her face was clean, but she'd never be a great beauty like the petite Olivia. “She tried to drown me,” she said slowly, as if searching for the English words.
“I did not!” Olivia wailed. “I was trying to help her and she tried to jerk me into the tub.”
Colt looked down into the honest blue eyes and wavered; then he went to Olivia's side. “There, there, ma'am. You tried to help. Maybe she just didn't understand. She's had a hard time.”
The girl looked toward the door again. “I need to go back to my little boy.”
Oh, God, he felt so sorry for her. He came back and squatted before her, took one of her work-worn hands in his. “I was told your baby is dead, Mrs. Brownley. Don't you remember? In a few days, maybe your husband will come for you.”
She shook her head, dripping water. “No. No.”
He didn't know what to do. He felt helpless and he was a man who had dealt with death and killing, rattlesnakes and tornados.
Doc came in just then, accompanied by the maid. He yawned and looked around. “Dag nab it! What in the name of goodness happened in here? It looks like Noah's flood.”
Olivia sobbed again. “I was trying to wash her and she tried to drown me.”
“Tsk tsk.”
The doc shook his head, muttering something about savages.
The doc shook his head, muttering something about savages.
Colt looked at the girl with soap dripping from her hair. “If I get you a bucket of water, would you want to wash your own hair?”
The girl nodded.
“Watch out!” Olivia warned. “She'll try to get away again.”
“I don't think so,” Colt answered softly and got a bucket of water, put it on the nearby table, and offered the girl a bar of soap and a dry towel.
Hesitantly, she took those from him and went to the bucket and began to wash her own hair.
Everyone seemed to sigh in relief.
Doc said, “Would anyone like something to eat? I've got some cold roast beef and some pickles if the maid can make sandwiches and she can put on a pot of coffee.”
“Sounds good,” Colt said, thinking it had been a long time since he'd eaten.
The doctor and the maid went back into Doc's quarters and Colt could hear them moving around in there and the clatter of pans and dishes.
In the meantime, the girl had finished with her hair and was drying it. Colt thought it looked like spun gold in the dim light. Muakatu. Moonlight. It had been an apt name for the captive. He knelt in front of her. “Are you hungry? Would you like some food?”
She seemed to think about it, then nodded slowly. “Yes, but I must go back.”
Olivia snorted. “She must be deaf or stupid.”
Colt took both the girl's worn hands in his two hands. “You can't go back. Do you understand? Your husband will be coming to get you.”
“Luther?” She frowned.
“Yes, I reckon that's his name,” Colt said.
“No.” Her lip trembled, but she did not cry.
“You don't want to go back to your husband?” Colt whispered.
She shook her head.
“Goodness gracious,” Olivia exclaimed. “What kind of woman is she? He'll take her back to her old life, back to civilization, and she doesn't even appreciate all our efforts.”
“We don't know all there is to know,” he said. Then he looked deep into Hannah's eyes. “All right, if you don't want to go with Luther, I won't let him take you.”
For the very first time, the girl smiled and Colt wondered then why he had thought her plain. When she smiled, there was a shy beauty about her.
Doc came in just then with a coffeepot, followed by the maid with a tray of sandwiches and some gingerbread. He put it all down on a table. “All right, everyone pull up a chair and we'll eat.”
The maid put small plates around the table and poured coffee. Colt could smell it from here and it smelled wonderful. The girl seemed to smell it, too, because she brightened. Colt took her hand and led her to the table, where she sat down uncertainly. It had probably been years since she'd used a chair, Colt thought.
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