Trail of Hope (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) (9 page)

“If all three of you think this is absolutely necessary…” Her voice disappeared, drowned out by a rattling noise somewhere in the darkness. Not being able to see their expressions made her uncomfortable.

The rattling noise drew closer. The tension-filled air around her seemed to increase. Her stomach’s jittery dance grew wilder. A cricket’s chatter sounded close to where Clay sat, making her jump. Holding her breath didn’t help either, making the harsh
thud, thud, thud
of her heart echo loudly in her ears. A boot scraped the hard ground next to her and the cricket’s song stopped. She couldn’t squelch the partial squeal fast enough when something touched her ear.

Bryan chuckled. “Sorry.”

Her hand flew out and, luckily, hit his shoulder and not his face. “
Ohhhh
. You scared me to death!” She glared at the faint outline of his head. Now that her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, she could just barely make out the outlines of everything around her. “I never knew you’d left.” The last thing she wanted to do was admit to him that she wasn’t paying attention when that was the very thing they’d just been telling her to do.

“You found out something more?” Clay scooted the two of them over and made room for Bryan.

“I went scoutin’. I like knowin’ where everyone is. Todd is one campsite behind you.”

“Damn,” Clay mumbled. “We didn’t need that.”

“Well, you’ll like this even less. As I walked by, I heard two officers complainin’ about what he’s doin’. Said it was too much like cowardice. They think he should jus’ take Miss Sophia if he wants her so bad.”

Martin’s growl echoed in her ear, and she squeezed his hand. The night was so still and quiet, she heard Bryan’s intake of air before he spoke. “I’m only repeatin’ their stupidity. There are just as many soldiers who think he should leave well enough alone.” The volume of his voice rose when, she assumed, he moved closer to her or maybe leaned forward. “There are at least ten soldiers watchin’ over you. Unfortunately, the major has more, and I don’t know everyone.”

Clay swore. “That’s not what we needed to hear.”

Sophia interrupted. “Thank you. Both of you. Now I will never get to sleep.” Disgusted, she rose. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I will be in the wagon counting the stars. Goodnight.” She edged toward what she hoped was the wagon, thankful when her fingers brushed over the rough wood. She crawled back up to her previous spot and lay down, tucking her arm under her head for a pillow. With her other hand, she felt around and finally found her doll tucked up against the wall.

Her brows drew together in a quick frown. “How did you get over there?” She cupped the doll’s head and gently pulled the hard little body against her own. Wrapped tightly in her arm, Sophia brushed her lips across the top of Rose’s coarse hair. Ignoring the tickle, she whispered, “I’m tired of being scared. I give my worry to you, and you will take care of me.” She drew the crisp air deep into her lungs and, for the first time in months, she relaxed.

Chapter Thirteen

Clay was thankful Sophia had gone back to the wagon. Now they could talk freely without scaring her more than she already was.

“Calm down. No one is accusing you of anything.” Clay leaned toward the younger man and poked the middle of his chest. “But, if that should change, I will kill you.”

“I’d never…we wouldn’…” Bryan sputtered.

He felt Martin’s heavy hand across his knee. “Bryan will do right by our Sophia. He’s taken good care of us since this dreadful journey began.”

In the inky blackness, he heard Bryan’s shaky intake of air. Clay’s hand struck out and grabbed the soldier’s elbow, pulling him closer. “Guard her with your life.”

“I already do, sir.”

Clay let go and rested the back of his head against the wagon’s wheel. He stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. From the loud pops mixed with a couple of grunts, he knew Martin had stood up.

“I believe I will go to bed now. You both should try to get a little sleep.” Martin grunted a few more times. “I’m old—you have to listen to me.”

Clay listened as Martin made his way to bed, a grin lifting one side of his mouth. He squirmed on the hard-packed ground in a futile attempt to find a smooth spot, but the hard, pebbly surface just dug into his behind.

He stared into the swirls of inky blue dotted here and there with clusters of winking crystals across the horizon. The outer edges were turning a pale pink as dawn closed in. He should have been asleep hours ago, but his brain wouldn’t shut down. He stretched his arms out and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the cramped tenseness that had plagued him since Martin went to bed.

Thoughts from different moments in his life flooded into his mind. His youth before the lonely years after his family’s death. His mother’s loving touch as she soothed away his numerous aches and pains, his first time fishing with his father, and the birth of his beautiful little sister.

Knowing his night was over, Clay stood, cursing under his breath, and marched to the end of the wagon. Before leaving, Bryan had given him the names of two soldiers who might have been involved in his family’s death. He could finally honor his vow after so many years of failure. He kept his touch soft when he rested his hand on Martin’s leg, then bit back a laugh when the old man jerked upright, eyes wide and bright.

“What is it?” Martin hissed.

Clay leaned forward. “I’m leaving.” He held up his hand before Martin could object. “Thanks to Bryan, I finally have
something
. Names. I have to finish this before I can move on.”

Martin stared at him, unblinking. He held so still, Clay wondered if he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open. Finally, a long sigh escaped through Martin’s closed lips and his shoulders slumped forward. “You will find them, Nighthawk—when it is time. They will still be out there if you stay. I am no longer a young man. You are needed here. Sophia needs you here. You promised her protection.”

The tumbling stones in his stomach multiplied. He swallowed the bile as it burned a path up his throat. He couldn’t tell Martin that Sophia was a large part of his decision to leave. After their kiss on the boat, he realized just how much he liked her.
Loved
her.

No, it was time to leave. Until he completed his vow, he had no room in his life for a woman.

His gaze dropped to her perfect face. A few dark strands of hair teased her cheek and upper arm as the cool morning breeze played tug-of-war with each fibril. Even asleep, she twisted his heart.
What do you know?
A crooked grin reshaped his mouth.
She sleeps with her mouth open.

His eyes traced the classic lines of her face and long neck. He’d failed to notice how prominent her cheekbones had become and shoved the niggling worry from his mind. He drank her in, wondering if it would be for the last time.

“
Humph
. You are running away, Nighthawk. Chasing those men is only an excuse. You run away from life.” Clay raised his eyes and met the old man’s hard gaze. “Go. Before she wakes. I will tell her something,” he snarled.

The only response his numbed mind could manage was a quick nod. He turned on his heel and left swiftly toward a nearby grove of trees, where Bryan had left him a horse. Luckily, his young friend had also taken care of the guards, at least for a while.

He inched up to the sturdy-looking blue roan, holding out an open palm and speaking in soft, soothing tones to gain the animal’s confidence. As the morning sun crested on the eastern horizon, a tapestry of soft, pale colors wove through the night sky. He threw a leg over the saddle and turned the horse’s head without a backward glance. In the dense canopy above, the melodious tunes from several mourning doves went unnoticed as he absently rubbed the center of his chest.

Chapter Fourteen

Her face hurt. Sophia tried to open her mouth, but something kept her from opening it the whole way. A smothering sensation pressed against her chest, making breathing difficult. Her hands and feet were bound. Even then, she knew from her body’s reaction she’d been placed in a confined space. From the side-to-side motion, it was probably a wagon. She wrinkled her nose in disgust—a smelly wagon.

What time is it?
The panic she’d initially felt after first waking had gradually changed to tediousness. Her body’s muscles had cramped hours ago from the tight bindings around her wrists and ankles. She slowly inhaled the stale air surrounding her as it heated with the afternoon sun and, for the hundredth time, flexed her arm and leg muscles without hope of regaining any feeling. Every now and then, two voices mumbled somewhere in front of her, and then the oppressive silence closed in again. This went on until she thought she would go crazy.

After listening to the two men all day, she still had no idea where they were taking her. An awful feeling of dread washed over her when the voice closest to her spit out several hard, clipped words, disgust evident in his tone. She knew that voice. Major Todd had finally succeeded in capturing her.

She was in so much trouble. Her only hope of rescue was if someone back at camp had seen or heard something. One minute she’d been dreaming about her childhood and the next, strong arms had jerked her from the wagon. There hadn’t even been time for a good scream. She’d quickly found that struggling only infuriated her captor. When her foot struck him, something hard and heavy slammed into the side of her head and the world faded from view.

Now, she listened to the loathsome voice spitting condensation and hurt. The major was truly a despicable man.

“Johnson, stop the blabbering and just report the camp’s location.”

“Major, the final relocation camp is over that hill up yonder—through those two pines. Those tall ones. A mite before that is the turnoff you asked about. To the mounds.”

“How long?”

“’Nother hour, I reckon.”

“That will be all, Captain. Report back to camp.”

“Yessir.”

Listening to Todd’s off-key whistling worsened the throbbing in her head. Unfortunately, when he stopped, the talking began. She didn’t pay attention to what he said. Her single focus was on the tightly knotted rope encircling her wrists. Her arms were numb and tingly, but she forced her bloodless fingers to work at the knot, hoping to loosen it before they reached the mounds he’d talked about.

Horror dawned when his rambling words finally sank in. He wasn’t taking her because he wanted a wife.

He was going to kill her.

Chapter Fifteen

He watched as the old Indian stared into the empty wagon. One corner of his mouth tipped up in the semblance of a smile. An almost satisfied feeling settled in his midsection—almost, because he wouldn’t be completely happy until that dratted female was taken care of, one way or another.

His gaze followed the young soldier he recognized as the upstart who’d caused such a ruckus about what these dirty heathens deserved. He was not about to deprive his men of three good meals a day. They worked hard and deserved whatever he could give them—at least until he decided otherwise.

Major Todd stepped back into the shadows of the tree line and raised the field glasses to his eyes. He wanted to see the devastation on the old man’s face, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help Sophia in her current predicament. She was already an hour away from here, tucked away nicely in the back of his wagon. He’d have to hurry to catch up, but he couldn’t miss their reaction to her disappearance.

The young soldier, whatever his name was, leaned forward and rested one hand on the old man’s shoulder. The Indian’s head was in the way, so he couldn’t see what the soldier said, but that didn’t matter. He chuckled when the old man’s head fell forward against his crossed arms resting over the side of the wagon. A fullness expanded in his chest when the soldier turned heel and left the Indian wallowing in his apparent sorrow.

Content, Todd turned and quickly walked through the small grove of trees to where he’d left his horse. He mounted and jerked the horse’s head, jabbing his heels into the gelding’s tender sides and spurring it into a slow gallop. Kicking his heels several more times quickened the horse’s gait. There was no more time to waste. He had a young lady to call upon.

****

Clay pulled his horse to a stop, both man and animal dragging much-needed air into their deprived lungs. He knew pushing the animal wasn’t smart, but the agonizing fear pounding through him erased all reason. During the frantic ride to catch up with Martin and Bryan, he’d blamed himself. If only he’d stayed. By leaving, he’d all but handed Sophia to Todd.

“Clay?” Strain was evident in Martin’s weak voice.

Winded, he held up his hand, trying to slow his breathing. “Nothing wrong. Returned after you’d left camp. I couldn’t leave her.” He drew a large breath, then continued. “The boy Sophia saved—his father told me what happened and that Bryan got you a horse... Had to come.”

Martin shook his head. “Blaming yourself for this won’t help Sophia—and neither will killing a perfectly good horse.” The hard glare on his face forced Clay’s silence. “We expected this, Clay, just not today.”

“If I’d stayed…”

“He would’ve found another way,” Bryan interrupted. “We need t’ figure out where he’s taken her, not who’s t’ blame.”

Martin’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he leaned forward, resting his crossed arms over the pommel of his saddle. “The Choctaw settlement’s south of here, but have either of you ever traveled up this way?”