Authors: The Searching Hearts
Dorothy Garlock (20 page)
The grizzled old sergeant stood looking at the woman and then back at the private. Would the younguns never learn? And this’n had the makings of a damn good soldier, too. Did the foolish lad not know he was just about thirty minutes away from gettin’ shot for rape? He prodded him in the back with the rifle, and they moved toward the corral. Cora Lee sniffed a few times and followed. Inside the fort the sergeant stopped and jerked his head toward the wagons.
“If’n yer a wantin’ the whole camp to know ’bout this, you’ll come to the captain and make charges. If’n ya don’t, you’ll go on back to yore wagon and keep yore mouth shut. I don’t need to be a tellin’ ya that!”
Cora Lee hesitated. This was something she hadn’t expected. The sergeant was giving her a choice. She looked into his face and saw the hard, unsympathetic look in his eyes. He knew she hadn’t been forced.
Would he say so? Would he forget what he’d seen and let the private go? She nodded her head, and he understood what she meant. She turned toward the darkened campsite, and the two soldiers proceeded toward the officers’ quarters.
Would he say so? Would he forget what he’d seen and let the private go? She nodded her head, and he understood what she meant. She turned toward the darkened campsite, and the two soldiers proceeded toward the officers’ quarters.
Thirty minutes later Sergeant Malone opened the door of the captain’s quarters and called to Private Dabney.
“Come in, private.”
Casper entered the room on legs that were weak with fear. The last thirty minutes had been the most difficult of his life. He knew the penalty for rape, and he knew the captain would not hesitate to carry out the punishment. He squared his shoulders and saluted smartly. He would take his punishment like a man, but, oh, God, what about his ma and sweet Martha Rose waiting for him back in Louisville? Would his disgrace be a reflection on them?
“At ease, private.” The captain leaned back in his chair and looked steadily at him. “I’m disappointed in you, Dabney. I thought you were made of better stuff. One thing in your favor is that you waited until you were off duty to dally with the woman. She said you forced her. Did you force her, private?”
“No, sir.”
“Have you talked with her before?”
“No, sir.”
“What fatal charm do you have, private, that you meet a woman and she lets you bed her within minutes of your meeting?”
“I . . . don’t know, sir.”
“You were ordered to stay away from the women on this train, private. Do you know the penalty for rape?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you doubt that I will hesitate to have you shot?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know what is standing between you and execution at this moment?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s Sergeant Malone. He saw the woman intercept you, saw you walk away with her. When you didn’t return, he followed and observed your . . . activities. He said if rape was committed, you were the one who was raped.”
Casper’s face turned from white to brick red, and he swallowed repeatedly. Silence filled every corner of the room. The captain looked at him long and hard. Casper felt compelled to say something.
“Sir, I . . .” He gulped and tried desperately to find words.
“Yes, private?” The captain was not going to make it easy for him.
“I . . . didn’t force her.”
“That’s already been established, private. You disobeyed orders by dallying with her. You were in a hell of a position to defend this fort lying on your face with your britches down. Had the sergeant had a mind to, he could have put a knife in your back. Were you so desperate to have your ashes hauled that you would risk death, private?”
“No, sir.”
Captain Doyle got to his feet. “We’re a company on the move, Private Dabney, or you would be confined in a guardhouse. Instead, your sentence will be twenty lashes, punishment to be carried out at once. You’ll have tomorrow to recover. The day after, if you are unable to sit a saddle you will be left behind to face court-martial.” The captain’s voice was brisk. If he felt any sympathy at all for the young private, he hid it well. “Sergeant Malone, you and I and Lieutenant Crossly will carry out the punishment. I want no word of this to leak out to the troops or to the civilians. Understand?”
* * *
It was past midnight when four men rode out from the fort and headed back down the trail they had covered the day before. Buck heard the faint sound of the horses’ hooves and wondered at the secrecy of the late-night mission. Curiosity gnawed at him, and he quietly got to his feet and bridled his horse. He led him out of the fort and swung up onto his back, Indian fashion. About a mile out the ears of his horse rose, flicked a time or two, and stood straight up. Buck slipped from the sorrel, tied the reins to a tree, and went cautiously into the brush.
The sound of steady slaps guided him to a clearing. A man’s hands were tied to a limb above his head. He was stripped to the waist. Sergeant Malone was applying the whip. Captain Doyle was counting the lashes. The other man was holding the soldier’s shirt. There was no sound coming from the man
being whipped, although Buck knew well the agony he was suffering. This sort of punishment was dished out regularly by the brutal guards at Yuma Prison. Buck had been on the receiving end of the lash enough to know that Sergeant Malone was not applying the whip enthusiastically. Yet each lash seemed to break across the clearing like the snapping of a branch. When the captain’s count passed fifteen, Buck knew the count would go to twenty. He waited.
being whipped, although Buck knew well the agony he was suffering. This sort of punishment was dished out regularly by the brutal guards at Yuma Prison. Buck had been on the receiving end of the lash enough to know that Sergeant Malone was not applying the whip enthusiastically. Yet each lash seemed to break across the clearing like the snapping of a branch. When the captain’s count passed fifteen, Buck knew the count would go to twenty. He waited.
The count reached twenty, and the captain reached up to cut the man down. The sergeant sprang to catch him, and they lowered him gently to the ground.
“Careful,” the captain cautioned. “Let’s get him on his horse, belly down, and take him to my quarters.”
Buck was back in his bedroll when the men returned to the fort.
Thirteen
May 2.
We left Fort McKavett at daybreak. All the women, with the exception of those in the three wagons that joined us two days ago, are in britches as Mr. Steele ordered at the beginning of the trip. Captain Doyle and his company of men are escorting us as far as Fort Stockton. When we stopped for nooning, Sergeant Malone asked if one of his men could rest for a while in the back of our wagon. His back was injured, and he was having trouble staying in the saddle. He was a very young soldier and was grateful to be lying down. We crossed over a trail today that was mostly sandy and covered with wild sage. Tonight we are camped again beside the San Saba River.
* * *
Tucker sat with her feet toward the small fire she had built, not because the evening was cool, but because Billy had brought the firewood and she felt she needed the light to push back the darkness. It had
not been an enjoyable day. They were traveling on the fringe of the rolling foothills, and at times they passed over naked rock or plains barren of any growth. The trail was sandy, and the wind, hot and constant, burned her face as her mind grappled with the events of two nights before.
not been an enjoyable day. They were traveling on the fringe of the rolling foothills, and at times they passed over naked rock or plains barren of any growth. The trail was sandy, and the wind, hot and constant, burned her face as her mind grappled with the events of two nights before.
In the light of day it had seemed as if none of it had happened. She and Laura had spent their free day with Lottie and Mrs. Shaffer. When the women went to the river to wash, Tucker had made sure she and Laura were in the midst of them. She had not seen Frank except from a distance, and today he had ridden beside the last wagon in line. She dreaded the day it would be their turn to take up position at the end of the train.
The puppy could not have come at a more opportune time. It kept Laura occupied for most of the day, so she didn’t intrude on Tucker’s reveries, which consisted of trying to figure out what to do about Frank Parcher. She considered telling Lucas, but immediately discarded the idea. She knew that if Lucas or Buck or anyone else began to act in the least bit suspiciously or tried to call Parcher out, Frank would follow up on his threats. He could get away at the first whiff of danger and strike at any time along the trail. And she was sure Frank would kill not only Lucas, but Laura and Billy, too. She couldn’t let that happen! It seemed hopeless. Unless. . . . New resolve began to glimmer in the back of Tucker’s mind. Perhaps she should start thinking about eliminating Parcher herself. . . .
“What should I name him, Tucker?”
With great effort, Tucker brought her mind back to the present, and to Laura sitting across the campfire from her with the dog in her lap.
“I thought you’d decided on Browny.”
“I don’t want to call him Browny just because he’s a brown dog. I want to call him something special.”
“Well, what do you think is special?”
“I can remember seeing blue sky and blue flowers. I’m sure they’re the ones you call prairie bluebells. But I can’t call a boy dog Bluebell!” She giggled happily. “But I could call him Blue. What do you think of that name, Tucker? I can call him Blue. Here, Blue! Here, Blue!” She tried out the name for sound.
“Sounds good to me. I don’t think you’ll find another brown dog named Blue.” Tucker was making a show of humor for Laura even while her thoughts were grim.
Oh, Laura, Laura. What will become of you if I have to leave you? The words battered against Tucker’s troubled brain. Who would take on the burden of caring for a blind girl? Buck is the only man she’s ever spent any time with, Tucker thought wretchedly. He’s enjoying her company now, but what if that pleasure palls when the novelty of the experience wears off? There’s Lottie; she isn’t likely to be snapped up quickly in the rush for brides in Coopertown. But Lottie will have all she can do to take care of herself. What if Laura had been right? What if the convent were the final step? Tucker groaned inwardly. Let something happen, God, please
let something happen to stop that evil, disgusting Frank Parcher.
let something happen to stop that evil, disgusting Frank Parcher.
While she sat wishing for divine intervention, Lucas and Buck appeared from between the wagons. After lifting his hand to his hat brim in greeting, Buck went to squat on his heels beside Laura, his fingers reaching out to fondle the ears of the pup. Tucker’s eyes clung to the steely gray eyes Lucas focused on her face. She got to her feet and without a word went to the end of the wagon and around to the other side. Lucas followed.
In the darkness they melted into each other’s arms. She clung to him as if she were drowning. He felt so good! He held her close, and she nestled her head against his shoulder.
“I’ve missed you,” she breathed, gripping him tighter. She wanted to hold on to him, make sure he was real.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You’re shaking.”
She raised her head and laughed a little. “I’m glad to see you, that’s all.”
He put his cheek to hers. “Your face is hot. Did you wear your hat today?”
“The wind kept blowing it off.” Say something she thought. Say something that will keep him with you for a while. “I came looking for you the first night we were at the fort. You were with the captain. Lucas, it’s just been an awful day!” Immediately she hated herself for complaining.
He kissed her, his lips lingering hungrily on hers.
“Today was just a sample of the trail ahead, sweetheart. You’ll get toughened to it.”
“Today was just a sample of the trail ahead, sweetheart. You’ll get toughened to it.”
“It wasn’t that! It’s just that . . . I’m worried about Laura.” He stopped her words with gentle kisses.
“You worry too much about Laura. Why not worry about me and how much I want to be with you and how I find every excuse to ride back so I can get a glimpse of this bright fiery hair.” His hands moved up her back to fondle her tumbling curls and she found herself silently praying, Oh, God, don’t let anything happen to him.
“I do worry about you, Lucas. Be careful, darling. Please be careful!”
He pulled away from her and tried to look into the face she kept hidden against his shirt. “What brought this on?” He gave a small laugh. “I won’t say I don’t like it, though. It’s been years since anyone’s worried about me.”
“I don’t like that scout from the other train,” she blurted out, and then wished desperately that she hadn’t.
“Don’t worry about him. If he so much as looks at you, I’ll horsewhip him.” He hugged her to him with infinite tenderness. “He hasn’t bothered you, has he?” he asked, suddenly wary.
“No,” she said hastily. “I just don’t like him.”
“I’m watching him. So are Buck and Captain Doyle. If he rides up to your wagon, we’ll know it. Now what did you mean about being worried about Laura?”
She hesitated. This really wasn’t the time she
wanted to bring it up, but as long as she’d already done so she would have to follow through.
wanted to bring it up, but as long as she’d already done so she would have to follow through.
“It’s her and Buck.” She leaned into him, grateful for his strong arms. “Laura has never been alone with a man before. She’s so happy now, but I feel it can’t last. I’m afraid for her. I’m afraid her heart will be broken.”
“What you’re saying is that you think Buck will use her and cast her off, isn’t it? I’ve known Buck for a long time. He’ll not hurt Laura. If I had thought there was even a chance of it, I would have put a stop to his walking out with her. Buck is a lonely man, but he’s a fine one. I’d bet my life that he’d give his own before he’d see any harm come to Laura. So, my little worrier, you can forget about them and worry about me.”
“Oh, Lucas, I love you. I love you so much!” She whispered the words and sought his lips with her eager ones.
The kiss lasted a long time while his hands molded her curves to his angular frame. She could feel his powerful body tremble, and she was achingly aware that he wanted her in the same way she wanted him.
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