Wind Song (42 page)

His head grew heavy and the sun seemed to dim.

Maddie.

He held on to her name with all his heart and soul. His lonely hope was that she had already left for the train.

He looked up at the sky and tried to make sense of the two yellow globes that floated over his head. Then he heard a high-pitched sound and recognized it as Maddie's godawful whistle. A surge of energy blazed through him, and his vision cleared.

Clinging to the sound of the shrill whistle that bonded him to the woman he loved, he reached over his shoulder and pulled the arrow out of his back. The effort cost him dearly in strength. He tried for Maddie's sake to hold on, but the light slipped away completely as he tumbled from the horse.

Maddie pulled her fingers out of her mouth. She had whistled off and on for the last twenty minutes, but still there was no sign of Luke. The loud, shrill sound of her whistle had sent countless meadowlarks, blue jays, and swallows skyward in a wild flutter of feathers and screeching protests. But there was still no Luke, and she finally gave up and headed back to the house.

When Luke failed to return to the soddy in time to take her and Matthew to the train, Maddie lugged her trunk out to the wagon.

"It's time to leave, Matthew." Matthew looked at her with worried eyes, and she did her best to comfort him. "Your father could be waiting for us at the train station," she said. She knew he wouldn't have gone to the station without them, but it gave her some measure of comfort to voice the possibility, no matter how remote. "Don't forget your slate, Matthew." She had a feeling that Matthew was going to need it--that they were both going to need it.

It wasn't until she turned the wagon onto the main road that she noticed the smoke rising from the area around Colton. Thinking that the fire explained Luke's absence, she snapped the whip over the horse's head.

Although she had known it was only a slight possibility that Luke would be waiting at the train station, she was nonetheless devastated when she pulled the horse and wagon alongside the deserted platform. To add to her dismay, they had missed the train by minutes, despite the frantic race to the station.

She had only herself to blame. She had waited until the last possible moment before leaving the soddy, hoping beyond hope that Luke would return.

She was furious with Luke. Furious at herself. She couldn't believe he had let her and Matthew go without saying good-bye. Then her anger dissolved into guilt. Luke was risking his life to save Colton, and all she could think about was herself!

Her eyes blurred with tears, she turned the wagon around and headed back. It was because of the tears that she failed to spot another cloud of smoke, this one further south, until Matthew tugged on her arm and pointed it out to her.

She slowed the wagon and shaded her eyes against the bright afternoon sun. Anger turned to worry as she noticed a third column of smoke rising from yet another direction.

Chapter 36

Snapping the whip over the horse's head, Maddie raced homeward. Sensing her urgency, Matthew tried to write something on his slate, but the jostling of the wagon made it impossible.

"Your father will be all right," Maddie shouted, trying to be heard over the loud rumble of the wagon wheels. "He's probably fighting the fires." She glanced at Matthew and felt a tug at her heartstrings. "Don't look so worried. Your father's going to be all right."
Oh, God, please let it be true!

She pulled the wagon up in front of the soddy and searched for Luke's horse. In the distance birds circled overhead.
More slaughtered buffalo
, she thought. Would the senseless killings ever stop?

Luke's horse was nowhere in sight, but even so, she dashed inside, hoping to find him. The room was empty, and there was no indication that he had returned in her absence.

She slumped into a chair, trying to decide what to do.

She could smell smoke in the air and decided to check on the progress of the fires. The sky overhead was clear and the blades of the windmill stood motionless. Standing in a narrow strip of shadow cast by the windmill, she scanned the prairie in every direction. More smoke filled the horizon, this time from the north.

But it wasn't the smoke that made her hold her breath. It was something in the distance.
Luke's horse,
she thought, her heart skipping a beat, but it was still too far away to know for certain. Shading her eyes against the bright sun, she squinted to get a better look.

Lord, if it was Luke's horse, it was certainly taking its own sweet time!

Matthew emerged from the soddy and ran to join her by the windmill. He slipped his hand into hers. "Does it look like your father's horse?"

Matthew's gaze followed her pointed finger. After a moment he nodded.

Apprehension gripped her, but it was the sight of the two turkey buzzards that began to circle over the horse that filled her with cold dread.

"Stay here, Matthew!" She tore through the knee-high prairie grass, mindless of the dangers posed by snakes, and the numerous prairie dog holes. She ran until she gasped for air and though she could run no more--and still she ran.

Luke was slumped in the saddle when she reached him, barely conscious, her name trembling on his dry, pale lips. "Maddie," he whispered. "I almost couldn't get back…on…the…horse."

"Hold on, Luke. Hold on!"

Gasping for air, she managed to keep him from falling off the saddle as she mounted behind him and rode the horse back to the soddy. The back of his shirt was soaked in blood, and it rubbed off on her clothes. Dear God, he'd been shot!

She motioned to Matthew with her arm. "Hurry!"

Luke groaned. "Maddie?"

She tightened her grip on him. "Hold on, Luke. We're almost there."

Matthew came running toward her, his face filling with horror when he saw his father. "Help me hold him.

Don't let him fall."

Maddie slid off the horse. Luke groaned again, and his eyes flickered open. "Maddie."

"We're home, Luke. But you have to help me. Come on now, hold on."

She tugged on his limp arm, and he practically fell on top of her. "Matthew! Quick!" Matthew ran to his father's side and pulled at his other arm. She slipped one arm around Luke's waist and pulled his arm around her shoulder. "Steady now." He was heavy, but she was strong, and for once in her life, her height proved an advantage. "Luke, stay with me. It's only a short walk."

Barely conscious, he stumbled and nearly fell. "Open the door, Matthew!" Somehow she managed to half-drag, half-carry Luke into the soddy and to the bed, where he fell face down. "Matthew! Quick. Bring me some water!"

She grabbed her scissors and cut his blood-soaked shirt away from his body. His eyes flickered open, and his parched lips moved, but his voice was so weak that she could hardly make out what he was saying.

"Don't talk, Luke. You've got to save your strength."

"Red Fea…ther."

Straining to catch his urgent words, she touched a finger to the open cut above his lip. "Red Feather did this."

"Arrow."

He grabbed her wrist, and at first she was gratified by the strength of his grip. But alarm soon took precedence as she felt his energy drain away.

"Luke!"

"Go," he whispered. "Red…Fea…"

She leaned closer. "What about Red Feather?"

"He'll be here…soon. Take Matthew…" His eyes closed.

"Luke! Stay with me. Please, Luke."

Matthew hurried into the soddy, lugging a bucket of water.

She grabbed the bucket from him and washed Luke's wounds with a clean rag. It was an arrow, not a gunshot wound, so there was no bullet to worry about. But he'd lost a lot of blood, and that was cause enough for alarm. "Bring me that bottle of whiskey."

Matthew, looking wide-eyed and pale, stood motionless. "Matthew!" she said sharply. He lifted his eyes to hers. Her heart went out to him. Poor boy. First his mother and now…this. "It's all right, Matthew. The bleeding has stopped. Bring me that bottle."

This time Matthew did as she asked, but the fear in his face was evident as he watched her dump the contents onto Luke's back. "That'll help to stop infection."

She cut strips of clean flour sacks to use for bandages. She worked feverishly, and after she had tended the wound she sponged off his face, being careful to wipe around the bruises on his cheek and forehead.

Matthew tugged on her arm.

"Don't bother me, now, Matthew. Please."

He tugged on her arm again. This time he was more insistent.

"What is it, Matthew?" she snapped, and immediately regretted her impatience. "All right. Show me what you want."

Matthew led her to the door and pointed. A wall of smoke rose, close enough to smell. The creak of the windmill indicated that the wind was picking up. That meant they were directly in the path of the fast-spreading fire.

She swept her gaze up and down the soddy walls. The walls would protect them from fire, but they could not keep Red Feather and his men from harming them if that were truly his intent.

She pulled Matthew back inside and bolted the door after them. She shook Luke, but got no response. Frantically, she reached for his pulse. Her fingers trembled so much that she had trouble finding one at first. At last she felt a slight flutter. He was still alive, thank God, but for how much longer?

Matthew stood stock still, looking pale. "It's all right, dear one." She hugged him and knew she had no choice but to leave Luke. Matthew's safety had to be her first concern. There was nothing she could do for Luke. Nothing but protect the son he loved so dearly.

She leaned over Luke and kissed him on the forehead. His skin was cold to the touch, a sickly ash color. She pulled her head back, leaving a teardrop in the wake of her kiss.

How she loved this man. How she hated to leave him. If it weren't for Matthew, she would stay to the bitter end. "I won't let anything happen to Matthew," she whispered. Her promise was all that she had to give him, and she prayed that by some miracle he heard her.

Brushing aside the tears, she moved away. Her heart ached. She would never have guessed such pain and anguish were possible. Lord, if anything happened to Luke, if she lost him… What would she do? "Come on, Matthew."

Luke's horse was the faster of the two, but it had wandered away from the soddy and was grazing in the grass a distance away. She took Matthew by the hand and ran.

A cloud of dust rose a short ways off, and a small band of horsemen could be seen heading toward them. Red Feather! He was still a mile or two away, but it was close enough. Feeling trapped, she spun around to consider her options.

As soon as she hit the road, Red Feather would spot her. It would do her no good to run in any other direction. They'd never get through the spreading fire, which now cut off their escape on three sides.

She jerked Matthew by the hand and ran back to the soddy. She searched frantically for the gun she had given Luke for safekeeping. It wasn't much, but it was something. Lord Almighty, what had he done with it? In her anguish, she knocked over Matthew's little Cardinal, and the bird fell to the floor with a thud.

She stared down at the bird…maybe there was another way. A way to save both Matthew and Luke.

Her heart fluttering, she dashed around the room. "Quick, Matthew! Help me carry the animals outside."

She wrapped an arm around a mounted groundhog and grabbed a jackrabbit in her free hand. "Hurry!" She raced out the door, keeping her body low to the ground so as not to be seen by the fast-approaching Indians. Matthew followed close behind, a badger cradled in his arms.

She set the prairie dog and jackrabbit in front of the soddy and took the badger from Matthew. It took two more trips to gather up the remaining animals. "Hurry, Matthew. Back inside. I'll be there in a minute."

Crouching low, she quickly arranged the bobcat. A raucous sound filled the air as hundreds of birds left the refuge of the tall grass and took flight to escape the advancing Indians.

She could hear the horses, and she knew that she was now in range of Red Feather's vision. It was too late to run back inside. Her only hope was to take advantage of the Indians' superstitious beliefs. Still on her knees, she froze in place.