Defiant Heart (6 page)

 

Sam Two Feathers hung back and watched the two new women. He had a gleeful feeling Blake Tanner might just have met his match in Miss Caldwell. But it was the other woman who caught Sam's interest. No matter what Miss Toni might have
been in the past, it was obvious she was ready and willing to work hard now. She struggled against the oxen, but eventually got the team unhitched. He smiled at her victory and wondered how anyone could be that beautiful.

“Why didn't you go help her?” Sam turned at the sound of Blake's irritated tone.

“She needs to learn to do it herself.”

“A woman like that only needs to know how to do one thing.”

Sam shook his head, pushing down his own irritation. “Not this woman. She is good. Wants a fresh start. She's ripe for God's picking.”

“Mark my words—no man will marry her, and she'll be signing on with one of the brothels in Oregon before the new year.”

“I do not think so.” He couldn't take her eyes off the white-blond hair flowing effortlessly in the breeze. “This woman is determined. She will starve before she sells her body again.”

Blake clapped Sam on the shoulder. “You just go on having faith in folks that don't deserve it, Two Feathers. But I'll not be fooled by a conniving woman. And you'd best not get any ideas about that one. She's not good enough for you.”

In silent reflection, Sam watched his friend walk away. Blake stubbornly refused to suffer so much as a glance at Fannie's wagon. But Sam couldn't keep from turning back for one more lingering look at Toni. She pulled the oxen forward and slapped them each on the behind, sending them off to graze safely away from their fire.

She nodded at a passerby, head high with the pride of a
person who has just accomplished a feat. Sam's own heart swelled, pleased for her. No matter what Blake thought, this woman was one of quality and substance. Sam knew he had no right having those sorts of thoughts about a woman like Toni. Not because she wasn't good enough for him as Blake had said, but because the pairing of a white woman and a half-breed Sioux, wouldn't be overlooked among decent folks, any more than would Toni's previous occupation. But at least she could hide her occupation. His high forehead and hawklike nose, along with sleek black hair and a brown complexion, left no doubt in anyone's mind as to his heritage. And Sam wasn't ashamed of his Sioux blood, but he had to admit choosing to live in the white world had been a lonely choice. Blake was his only friend, and no white women would give him a second look.

But he knew God had a purpose for his life. Felt sure there was a woman out there handpicked by God just for him, and Sam was willing to wait for however long it took to find such a woman.

Fannie fought back tears as salt water penetrated the open blisters on her hands. “It hurts bad, Fannie?” Katie asked, her wide blue eyes liquid with compassion.

“Not too bad,” she lied. “Just stings a little.”

Kip stomped back into their camp. “I ain't doing that again, Fannie.”

Fannie fought against pain, fatigue, and frustration. She had little compassion to spare for Kip just because he found his chore of gathering buffalo chips degrading. “Well, Kip. You heard what Mr. Tanner said about obeying orders,” she
said matter-of-factly. “So you'll either pick up buffalo chips like you're told, or we'll get kicked out of the wagon train.”

Kip scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. “Aw, who needs these folks anyway? We can make it on our own.”

She removed her hands from the salt water and shoved her bloody palms at him. “Can we?”

The insolence left his face as soon as he saw the wounds. “I can take care of the wagon and oxen. You gather buffalo chips. Okay?”

“Oh, that's a wonderful idea, Kip.” Katie's face brightened into a smile of admiration at her twin.

The thought of not having to fight with the stubborn animals was awfully appealing to Fannie. And Blake had mentioned discussing the possibility with the captain charged with assigning chores in their section of the wagon train. But she had no intention of admitting she couldn't handle a pair of dumb oxen. “Those aren't the chores we were assigned.”

Kip shrugged, and his expression once again twisted into rebellion. “What difference does it make as long as the work gets done?”

The boy had a point. And the thought of not having to fight the pain and dizziness of pulling against the animals appealed to her a great deal. “All right. Maybe it won't matter so much as long as the chores are done. Tomorrow evening, I'll join your detail while you unhitch the oxen and start the fire.”

Relief softened his expression. Then another look Fannie couldn't quite decipher.

“What?” Fannie asked. “Why the look?”

He shrugged. “How come you been acting so different?”

“Different. How?”

His eyes turned stormy, accusing. “You promised Mr. Tanner you'd obey his orders. And I've never seen you act like you can't do hard work, but you've been favoring your sides. You hurt or something?”

Heat rose to Fannie's cheeks. “I made that promise just so Mr. Tanner wouldn't kick our behinds all the way back to Hawkins, Kip. We have to be smart, and if that means pretending to do as we're told…then…”

“Just like with Ol' Tom.”

“Exactly.” They had to do as they were told on the outside and do whatever they needed to do when no one was looking. They had survived that way for three years. They could do it for a few more months, until they reached their new home. “So you understand, now. Right? You have to do as you're told. Don't make trouble. Soon as we get to Oregon, we'll be on our own, and no one will ever tell us what to do again. Okay?”

“Mr. Two Feathers is gonna teach me how to hunt and scout. That might come in handy for when we get to Oregon.”

Fannie's strength was finally fading, and she smiled wearily. “That's good, Kip. Real good.”

Kip's freckled nose creased between his eyes. “You hurt, Fannie?”

“Yeah. Tom did a real number on me this time. Sometimes I can't breathe.”

His eyes clouded with worry. “Think we ought to ask
around and find out if there's a doc in the train?”

Fannie shook her head with sudden vehemence. “No. Kip. Listen to me. We can't make any trouble. If Mr. Tanner finds out I'm hurt, he'll make us leave the train sure as anything.”

“I don't know, Fannie. He seems a decent sort of man. It ain't your fault you got the stuffing knocked out of you.”

“Isn't. You know better than to speak improperly. What would Ma say?”

“What difference does it make?” he asked, his freckles popping out with defiance.

“I don't know, Kip. But Ma always wanted us to speak properly. She said it set the quality folk apart from the ignoramuses. Do you want to be an ignoramus?”

“I guess not. But I still don't think it matters where we're going.”

“Well, just remember Ma and mind your grammar.”

Before he could answer, nausea suddenly hit Fannie, and panic rose as she looked around for someplace to retch. She barely made it behind the wagon before becoming sick.

Pain sliced through her ribs each time she heaved, and her breath came in raspy gasps. “Fannie?”

Fannie's head swam, and she grabbed for the wagon wheel to keep from crashing to the dusty ground, as her throat closed, and she began to lose consciousness for the second time in as many days.

Blake paced outside of Fannie's wagon while Sadie Barnes looked Fannie over with a carefully trained eye. He could have kicked himself for not making sure they had a doctor in the train this time around. Even more, he kicked himself for being so shortsighted. How could he have not seen that Fannie was injured so badly? He should have insisted she be honest with him when he first noticed her bruises.

Toni handed him a steaming cup of coffee.

He took it with a jerk of his head. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“You're welcome.” She gave a shaky breath, and Blake could tell she was just as worried as he was.

Sadie appeared through the opening in the canvas cover on Fannie's wagon.

Blake rushed forward, slopping coffee on the back of his hand, but he barely felt the sting. “Well?”

“Help me out of this contraption,” the middle-aged widow snapped.

Blake extended his hand and provided support as the plump woman climbed from the wagon.

“Well?” he repeated.

“The poor girl took a beating. Didn't you notice?”

Blake stiffened at the accusation in her tone. “I noticed someone had fattened her lip and bruised her cheek. But I didn't want to pry. And she didn't offer the information.” As a matter of fact, she'd told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own business.

“A fat lip and a few bruises on her face are the least of her injuries.”

“What do you mean?”

“The girl's body looks like she's been stampeded by a herd of buffaloes.” She shook her head, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “One big black-and-blue bruise. Broken ribs. She's a mess. That's for certain.”

Guilt squeezed Blake's heart. “Are you telling me she's been driving that wagon and working nearly two days with those injuries?”

Mrs. Barnes nodded grimly. “That's what I'm telling you, Mr. Tanner. If I had to guess, I'd say she's accustomed to taking a beating and pulling herself together in time to work like a dog. But this time, she's likely made herself worse. And if you have a decent bone in your body, you'll see to it that she rests for a few days and gives her little body a chance to heal.”

“You mean call a halt?” Blake's stomach dropped, and he blinked like a fool. Only a woman would even think of stopping a whole wagon train for one person. He'd be more likely
to send her back to Hawkins and go on without her.

Apparently, Sadie recognized his bafflement for what it was. She jammed her hands onto her hips and gave him the deepest frown he'd ever seen. “Well, we wouldn't want to do anything to throw off your precious schedule, would we?” Her lips dripped with sarcasm. “Especially for a slip of a girl like Fannie.”

Now, comments like that were uncalled for. He was responsible for the welfare of over four hundred people—all of whom had put their trust in him to see that they arrived at their destination in one piece. He couldn't take a chance that an early snow season or a harsher-than-usual winter might blow in and catch them unawares.

Still, he didn't want to be unreasonable. He glanced at Sam. “What do you think?”

The scout shrugged. “It's up to you. We've already lost two days stopping for repairs.”

That was Sam's way. Present the obvious and allow Blake to come to his own decision. Raking his fingers roughly through his hair, Blake looked across the horizon as if searching for answers from the tall prairie grasses waving in the early-summer breeze. But no answers were forthcoming.

“Mister?”

Blake turned at the sound of the little angel-faced sister. The girl's appearance was similar to Fannie's but not so freckled, not so wise, not so hard. Blake crouched down until he met the child's sad, worried eyes. “Yes?”

“Fannie took an awful beating.”

“Shut up, Katie!” The brother gave the girl a shove, send
ing her sprawling to the ground, her eyes wide with surprise as she scrambled to her feet in the next second.

Springing into action, Blake grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck. “Never lay your hand on a female, son.”

The boy's eyes blazed with anger and rebellion. Not even an ounce of remorse softened the steel in his face. “We don't air our dirty laundry, mister.”

“Now you listen to me.” Blake let the youngster go, but commanded his attention with a firm tone. “Your sister is injured and needs to heal for a couple of days before we move forward.”

Anger gave way to fear in the lad's eyes. “We got to get more distance between us and Hawkins, or ol' Tom'll find her and give her the same again. He might even kill her this time.”

What on earth had this family been through? Compassion rose in Blake. He realized his decision had crept up on him without his even realizing. He glanced up at Sam. “Inform each captain we'll be staying in camp for two days.”

Sam nodded and silently left to carry out the order.

Katie's sweet face melted into relief. But Kip's scowl remained in place.

Blake clapped the boy on his shoulder. “Don't worry, son. We'll keep an eye on your sister and make sure no one harms her.”

“The only thing we wanted from you was to keep moving.” The distrust remained firmly planted around the freckles. “I'll make sure no one hurts my sister. She ain't your concern.”

“Then stay close to her and don't let anyone come around the wagon. You're on guard duty.” Blake studied the young man's face. “You man enough?”

Thin shoulders squared with the weight of responsibility. He nodded solemnly. “I'll keep my sister safe.”

“Good.” Blake turned to Sadie. “Keep me informed on how she's doing,” he said.

“She just needs a couple of days to rest, and she'll be fine. Still sore for a while, but past the point of danger from the jostling wagon.”

He nodded to Toni, figuring it was the least he could do. After all, she was worried about Fannie too. “I'll be back later,” he said. He turned and mounted Dusty.

“Wait, Mr. Tanner.”

Dread hit Blake's gut. He should never have been pleasant to Toni. She'd expect conversation and well wishes and possibly more. He hardened his gaze as he looked down from his seat atop his horse. “What can I do for you?”

“Kip had a point. There's a good chance Fannie could still be in danger. We told you that in the first place.”

Blake knew she was right. He'd walked right into this situation with his eyes wide open. He had no one to blame but himself for including the little group in the train. Now he had no choice but to fulfill his duty as wagon master and see to it that Fannie's injuries didn't become life-threatening, which they very well could if she didn't give those ribs a chance to heal. “We'll do our best to keep Miss Caldwell safe. Leave the train's security to me.”

She stiffened under his reprimand. Her lip curled, and her eyebrow lifted. “And yet you left Fannie's security to a twelve-year-old boy.”

Heat rose to Blake's cheeks. He wasn't used to criticism and chastisement, least of all by a woman like this. “I know what I'm doing.”

“I'm not worried whether you do or not. It's Kip I have my doubts about. The boy is a hothead.”

“Good day, Toni,” he said, without bothering to acknowledge her concern or tip his hat as he would a decent woman. Blake whipped his horse around.

“He has a gun,” she called after him. “And he's been itching to use it. You think he was impulsive to jump in front of a charging cow? Wait until he pulls a gun and shoots without taking time to consider what he's doing.”

Blake's heart went cold at the image her words evoked. She had a point. The boy without a weapon had almost gotten himself killed. With a gun? Blake shuddered to think of the consequences.

But he didn't give her the satisfaction of returning to investigate her claims further. Rather, he kept the information at the forefront of his mind and headed back to his campfire.

 

Fannie woke slowly to the soft glow of moonlight streaming in through the canvas opening at the back of the wagon. The sweet smell of sunflowers and clean air wafted to her, and she tried to drink in the fragrance. A sharp pain shallowed her breath, and she let out an involuntary moan.

Toni sat up from her pallet. “Fannie?”

“How long was I asleep?”

“At least twelve hours. Mrs. Barnes gave you laudanum for the pain. Mr. Tanner called a halt for a couple of days while you heal up enough to move forward.”

“He knows?”

“Not everything. Katie told him you'd been beaten.”

Anger shot through Fannie. “Katie knows we don't—”

“Air your dirty laundry,” Toni provided. “Kip made that abundantly clear, but it was too late, and Mr. Tanner already knew.”

“We can't stay here like dead ducks. We haven't put enough distance between us and Hawkins.”

Toni gave a solemn nod in the darkness. “I know. But Mr. Tanner has made up his mind. He's not going to give in. You know how stubborn he is.”

Fannie glanced around the wagon. Katie's eyes were closed in sleep, her long eyelashes sweeping rosy cheeks. She sighed and rolled over onto her side.

“Where's Kip?”

“Standing guard.”

Fannie sat up quickly and cried out as sharp pain sliced through her torso.

“Take it easy, Fannie.” Toni's hand pressed against her shoulder. “Lie down. Kip's fine.”

“What's a boy doing standing guard for a wagon train?” What could Blake be thinking? “Are they that short of men?”

“Kip asked to watch over our wagon. Mr. Tanner allowed
him the dignity of doing so. I told him about Kip's gun.”

“Good, then he'll keep an eye on him.” Fannie felt herself starting to fade out. “Could you go check on Kip and make sure he's warm enough?”

Toni pulled the comforter more closely about Fannie's shoulders. “You get some rest. I'll check on Kip.”

Fannie was asleep before Toni reached the opening to the canvas. Toni glanced back, affection surging inside of her. All these years she'd buried any hope of growing attached to anyone, yet now, within just a few days, this family of orphans had taken root inside of her heart, igniting fiery loyalty and something very close to familial love. She stepped outside, as promised, and found Kip sitting, gun in hand, against the wagon wheel. His head drooped, his chest rising and falling in telltale sleep.

She started to reach out, but a hand on her arm startled her. A scream tore at her throat, muffled by a swift hand across her mouth. “Do not be frightened, Miss Toni,” came a soft voice next to her ear. “It's Sam Two Feathers.”

Toni relaxed and gave a nod of understanding.

The Indian scout lowered his hand but put a finger to his lips. “He may become startled if you wake him. I don't want him to come out of sleep and start shooting.”

“I see your point,” Toni whispered.

“Why are you outside?” he asked. “Everything okay?”

“Fannie woke up and asked me to check on Kip. I promised I would.” She shook her head. “He should be inside asleep with his sisters.”

“The boy has much to learn.” Two Feathers focused on
Kip's form. “Keeping his word is the most important lesson.”

“His word?”

The scout gave a short nod. “Standing watch.”

Honestly, Toni had to wonder about men such as Blake and Sam. They seemed to be part of a rigid honor system that extended to each person from infant to the grave, with no exceptions. “He's just a child. Surely, you don't expect him to stay awake all night and guard his family's wagon like a grown man.”

“I do.” His jaw tightened with determination. “And so does Blake. Survival depends upon each person doing his duty, and doing it well.”

Kip stirred and jerked awake. Two Feathers nodded. “Good,” he whispered. “Only a couple of minutes went by. His sense of duty awakened him. He'll be a good man someday.”

Sam's hand, warm on her arm, was beginning to feel confining, and panic rose inside of Toni. She pulled her arm away, and Sam immediately let her go.

“Do not worry, Miss Toni. You are well guarded. Kip will not fall asleep again.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

A smile touched the corners of his lips. “He's discovered that he has a weakness and is ashamed of himself. He won't allow himself to fall asleep again.”

Toni warmed to his gentle smile, then, suddenly aware of how close she was to this man, pulled back. What if someone saw her in the dark with a man and got the wrong idea? She had already felt the condemnation of a few of the women
on the train. They knew who she was. Within another day or two, her former profession would be common knowledge. All the more reason for her to keep her distance from men.

Sam couldn't keep his eyes off the woman. Her white-blond hair fascinated him more than he'd like to admit and beckoned him with its silky shine. As much as he wanted to summon the strength to turn away, it was impossible. He watched her slender form, waiting for her to disappear beneath the white canvas covering.

He caught his breath as she turned just before entering the wagon. “Good night, Mr. Two Feathers,” she whispered.

Before he could recover enough to respond, she had already ducked inside.

Sam's insides lit up, like a Roman candle. A crazy grin touched his lips as he turned—just in time to feel a blow to the side of his head. Blackness hit him just as he realized he'd let down his guard and now Toni, Fannie, and the twins were in danger.