Fort Larned (8 page)

   "They left in a hurry. Something else had their attention."

   Collier lifted Ellen to the table. He soaked a cloth in water from a bucket. He began gently washing her face.

   Nell thought she looked plain and hard. Her thin frame and features showed the signs of a hard life. She was apparently a clean, neat woman in her daily living. "How long have they been dead?" she asked.

   "A few hours. No more. I'm surprised we didn't hear any shooting."

   "Then, they're near?"

   "I don't think so. This was hit and run. They were in a hurry." He paused for a moment. "Maybe I should check things out. I'd hate to be wrong."

   "Go on, Lane. I'll take care of this."

   He seemed relieved. "I'll be back shortly."

   Nell bathed the woman carefully and fixed her hair. She then turned her attentions to the man. She was taken by how young his features were. She didn't know how to handle the scalp wound and decided to wait for Lane. She straightened out the body and folded his hands across his chest. He was too heavy for her to lift alone. She cleaned the body on the floor where it was. After a while, she became concerned about Lane. She stepped to the door of the dugout. All was quiet. An uneasy feeling came upon her. She turned back to the table and retrieved the Colt revolver. She examined it to make sure that it was in order. She thought of Collier's talk about the sixth shot and looked at the woman. Tears came to her eyes but she shook it off. She looked out the doorway, cocked the hammer and waited.

   Collier was surprised when he saw her with the revolver.

   "I'm sorry, Lane. I wasn't sure who was there."

   He smiled. "No. I should have known better and been more careful. You're doing perfectly right."

   "Are they gone?"

   "Yeah, it's clear. The place is abandoned."

   "I didn't know what to do about the scalp wound on the man."

   He looked at Fox's body. "You did fine."

   She hesitated at asking about the woman but she had to know. "Do you think that he shot her?"

   Collier's eyes turned to the thin frame of the woman on the table. "He loved her. That's all that matters."

   She hesitated. She thought how simple it seemed for Collier, a hard man in a hard land and yet a compassionate friend who did not judge. "Of course."

   Collier turned for the door. "I'll bring in the other body. If you don't mind, I'll start digging while you work on him."

   She thought how exhausted Collier appeared and what a strain it must be for him.

   "That's fine."

   He brought the third body into the house and placed it on the floor next to Fox. She went to work. She was about finished when she heard Lane's voice calling to her. She grabbed the revolver and ran to the sound of his voice. He was standing at the top of a nearby hill. A grave was already started.

   "Look at that," he said. "Would you look at that?"

   She came to his side and looked in the direction he pointed. A freshly worked field lay at the base of the slope. She shaded her eyes to make sure that she was seeing correctly. "How? How could it be?"

   "I don't know. I can't imagine."

   Annie Fox was digging in the dirt of the field with a large wooden spoon.

They took Annie to the dugout and fed her some bread. Collier said that her mother probably hid her in the root cellar at the back of the dugout. It was common practice to do so if Indians threatened. The door was open and they found her blanket and a homemade corn cob doll in the far corner under the potato shelf.

   It was almost dark before Lane finished the burials. While he worked Nell bathed Annie and straightened out the dugout. She started a meal of boiled potatoes and onions. She removed her head bandage, cleaned herself and examined her wound in a broken fragment of the mirror. It would leave a scar but it was beneath the hair line and would hardly be noticeable, if at all. She thought of ways of arranging her hair so that it would not show.

   When the time came for the burials, they wrapped the bodies in burlap and lowered them into the ground with ropes. As the sun set, he finished closing the graves and she joined him for a service. They drove three crude crosses made of laths at the head of each.

   She held Annie and watched the setting sun silhouette behind the crosses. Collier stood beside her and removed his hat. "These were good people. John and Ellen had little to nothing when they came out here. They worked hard and built this place out of nothing. I know they loved each other. I saw it in their eyes and the way they respected each other. I never heard a harsh word spoken when I was with them. Wherever they are now, I hope they are together. I know that is the way they would have wanted it." He picked up the shovel and turned toward the house.

   Nell watched him and smiled. "I hope someone will say something as kind as that over my grave. It was a fine tribute."

   He nodded but did not answer.

   "Well, you certainly have changed things." He said as he entered the dugout.

   "I took the liberty of taking one of her dresses," she said.

   "I don't think it matters one bit," he smiled and said.

   She realized how easily and often he smiled.

   "That smells good." He looked at the boiling potatoes and onions on the small stove. "Ellen was proud of that stove. It was one of her most precious possessions. But, here you two are, all cleaned up and pretty, and I must look almost as bad as I smell."

   She pointed to a pitcher and basin on a small wash table. "All ready for you."

   "Good! I'll just clean up a little before we eat."

   He removed his shirt and she noticed the dark bruises on his back and elbow. They were heavy and painful looking. "Are those from the storm?" she asked knowing the answer.

   "Yeah, I'm kind of a mess."

   She saw the bullet wound along his side and stepped closer to examine it.

   "Lane, that's infected! Isn't it awfully painful?"

   "I suppose so. I really hadn't noticed."

   "That arm and filthy bandage. That needs attention."

   She led him to a chair and had him sit. She cleaned and bandaged his side and his arm. As she knelt before him working on his arm, he caught a whiff of her freshly-washed hair.

   "You smell good."

   "Certainly better than before," she said without looking up.

   He watched her as she worked thinking how very attractive she was.

   When she finished with the wounds, she took his hands in hers. "There, that should be better."

   He liked her touch. "It is. I've never been treated so well."

   She smiled. "You deserve it."

   He found a comb and razor by the basin. It felt good to be clean. She brought one of Fox's shirts to Collier and placed it beside him on the table. The potatoes and onions were on the table when he finished buttoning the shirt. It was a little big and short in the sleeves but much better that the rag that he was wearing.

   Nell leaned back in her chair as Collier approached the table. "Why, Lane Collier, you're a right handsome man."

   "Have to be in the company of such pretty ladies."

   Annie was placed in a special chair that her father had built for her and given a plate of food. She set into the potatoes and ate heartily.

   "She seems to be doing all right," he said.

   Nell looked at her with admiring eyes. "Isn't she beautiful?"

   "No more than the day that she was born."

   He set about eating his meal. They were quiet as they ate.

   "What do we do now?" Nell asked as he finished.

   "It's another thirty miles to the Frizzel ranch. I guess we rest up tonight and head east. The sooner we get to help, the better."

   Nell looked at Annie. "She'll have a rough time making it."

   Collier smiled. "We'll get her there. She's not too heavy."

   After the meal, Nell made up the beds and put the child down to sleep. Collier spent most the time cleaning his guns and watching out the doorway.

   She joined him in front of the dugout. It was a quiet, still night.

   "Put Annie to bed?" he asked.

   "Yes, she asked for her mommy."

   "She's young. She'll forget."

   "Does she have any other family?"

   "I don't think so. It's hard to say. John had no family that I know of. Ellen's parents died when she was a child."

   Nell looked at the stars. "I had a child. It was stillborn. She would have been Annie's age if she had lived."

   "You'd want the child?"

   "Who wouldn't? She's beautiful."

   Collier hesitated for a moment. "Nell, when we get out of this thing, I wonder what your plans might be."

   "Go back to Missouri. I've still got a good place there. My family's there."

   "Oh . . . I see."

   She sensed that he was uncomfortable. She knew what was on his mind. She didn't want to put him off, but she had her concerns. "Lane, what if Nathan's still alive? It could present problems."

   "He's not. He was killed back at the river."

   Nell cut her eyes to Collier's face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

   "Several reasons. He was badly mutilated. I didn't think you needed to see that. I wasn't sure of the Cheyenne. Getting on as quickly as possible seemed best. I didn't know how well you could handle it."

   She held his hand. "There was nothing left between us."

   "I know. I could tell the first time that I met you."

   "Was it that obvious?"

   "No man treats a woman like property if he really loves her. He doesn't need to. There would be more than just possession. There should be trust and comfort. Something like John and Ellen had. He didn't have those feelings. You were just property."

   "I think it could happen between us if you think you could be happy in Missouri."

   He turned to her. "I wasn't planning on staying at Fort Larned much longer. I had heard talk of a new market developing for buffalo. A man could make real money. That's why I bought the Remington. Still, that's no life for a woman."

   She stood and thought. "Why couldn't we do both? I could run the farm. We could work things out. We could do well."

   "It's not that I'm afraid of farming. It's just that I don't know much about it."

   "I know about farming just as you know this country. I would never tie you to a farm. We can make it work." She hesitated. "You're too good a man to lose. I will do my share. If we work together, I know we could find real happiness."

   He kissed her. She returned the kiss and held him closely.

   "I'd be good to you, Nell. I'd never expect you to live out here."

   She relaxed in his arms. "Someday it may be different. I may want to live out here. I'll make a good home for you wherever it may be."

   "I know you will. I'd be lucky to have you."

   They sat for a while, talking and making plans. Finally, he said that she probably needed her rest. It would be a long day and she would need her strength. She went in and prepared for bed. He leaned against the dugout, maintaining guard. After a while, he figured that she was asleep.

   "Lane, aren't you going to rest?"

   He looked into the dugout. She was in her bed.

   "I thought I ought to keep guard."

   She opened the covers of the bed and was beautiful in the half-light of the room. "Come to bed, Lane. I need you with me."

   Collier hesitated then entered the cabin. He went to the bed. "I don't know. I'd not be satisfied with just this."

   She smiled up at him. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight glow of the dugout.

   "Come to bed, Lane."

   Her body felt warm against his. They spent the night in each other's arms.

Collier was awake before dawn. He spent several minutes enjoying Nell's body next to his. When he left the bed, she awoke briefly but returned to sleep at his urging. The dugout was cool and musty in the early morning dawn. Collier found the coffee and started a fire in the iron stove. He remembered the great pride Ellen Fox placed in the stove. As meager a house as it was, it had always been spotlessly clean and a source of pride for her. Collier had to fight his feelings of hatred and the desire for revenge. He had been with General Winfield Hancock the year before and knew the toll of death and destruction that the whites had inflected upon the Indians in that campaign. Collier felt that the bitter memories of Hancock's raids were still with the Cheyenne.

   
"An eye for an eye,"
he mumbled as he watched the fire in the stove.

   He remembered Annie's birth. He had stopped for a visit only to find John Fox working feverishly to prepare for the delivery. He read the birthing book to Fox as the two big, bearded men with hands more suited to shovels, fumbled with the tiny new lady. Ellen had laughed at the two of them trying to wrap a cloth around the infant. They got good and drunk when it was all over.

   The coffee was boiling. He poured himself a cup. He watched the sun breaking the horizon. Nell Baker woke and watched him from her bed.

   "I got some coffee on," he smiled. "You want some?"

   She threw back the covers and stepped from the bed. "Let me wash up and dress first. Then I'll join you."

   Collier was mindful that she was treating him as a husband with no effort at modesty. His life had been one of men, dirt and horses. He felt inadequate, but, she was beautiful and everything that he had ever wanted in a woman.
"You called the tune. Now dance to
it,"
he thought as he poured a second cup of coffee.