Bittersweet Ecstasy (53 page)

Rebecca’s dazed senses gradually cleared and she recognized her perilous fate. Her wide eyes gaped at the naked man who was standing beside her. A muffled cry and more vain struggles came forth as Timothy seized her dress and ripped open the front of it. One hand roughly fondled a soft breast as the other moved up her thigh and halted as it made contact with her womanly region. “I see ye be hot an’ eager for me. I bet ye ain’t slept with tha trapper, so I bet ye be real hungry tonight. I been waitin’ o’er twenty years for this moment.”

“And it won’t come tonight either, Colonel Moore,” Major Ames declared from the doorway as he entered to halt this despicable cruelty. The guard had rushed to his quarters, awakened him, and warned him of this vindictive and outrageous situation.

Moore whirled at the intrusion and, unmindful of his nudity, scoffed, “Ye bes’ git out o’ here, Major Ames, or ye be ae dead man.”

Ames did not waver or retreat. “Not this time, Colonel. I’ll fight you and kill you before I let you rape these two women.”

Timothy Moore chuckled and invited, “Why dinna ye take tha pretty Injun girl for yeself? This one be mine. Rebecca owes me plenty, an’ it’s time tae collect.”

“She doesn’t owe you anything, you vile bastard. You brought your troubles on yourself. Don’t go putting the blame for your mistakes and cruelties on her. Now, get out of here and sober up.”

“I see, ye wants her too. Dinna worry, lad; ye kin take her after I finish. She’s got enough treats tae feed this whole fort. Tha’s ae guid idea,” he stated crudely
and wildly. “Let all tha men hae her; tha’ will punish them divils. Bright Arr’r will die o’ grief an’ pain.”

“You’re crazy, Moore,” Ames charged as he observed the man.

“Aye,” Moore nonchalantly agreed. “But she will cure me real soon.”

Ames approached to subdue the officer, but Moore attacked him. They scuffled frantically, for Moore had grabbed his knife and was trying to kill Ames to cease the man’s interference.

Singing Wind had recovered her senses, and both females were trying futilely to free themselves. As the enraged Moore pinned Ames to the ground and raised his knife to plunge it into Ames’s heart, the guard clobbered Moore with the butt of his rifle. Moore fell aside, and Ames scrambled to his feet.

Ames tried to slow his rapid respiration before saying, “Thanks, Corporal Richards. Lordy, what a mess we got here,” he mumbled, not knowing what to do next.

Corporal Clint Richards scratched his graying head and hinted, “This ain’t the end of it, sir. I wouldn’t be surprised if he talks General Cooper into letting him have this girl. Cooper’s been
loco
ever since he got here, and Moore’s got him under his control.”

“You’re right, but I can’t go against them. Unless…” he murmured thoughtfully, then eyed the two women. “Bind and gag Moore while I free these women. It seems to me like there’s gonna be an escape tonight. I doubt Moore will contradict us once he sobers up.”

While Clint obeyed Ames’s order, which he found most agreeable, Ames freed Rebecca and Singing Wind and explained the shocking plan to them. The two women listened carefully and gratefully. As he bound and gagged Clint, he said, “This won’t seem
impossible. You know about the secret gates. I wish I could get you some horses and supplies, but that ain’t smart. Just get out of here and as far away as possible. Find a place to hide until those warriors return and find you.”

The women thanked Major William Ames and followed his clever plan. Getting out of the fort was easier than they had expected, for the cell and concealed gates were blocked from the sentry’s view by another structure and the troops were camped on the far side of the wall. After they vanished into the darkness, Ames completed his daring scheme. All he could do was pray that the escape was not discovered for a long time, time enough for the two women to hide themselves. If Moore reported the truth, it would be his word against theirs, for they would swear that Moore had attacked Clint to keep the guard from protecting the women or from summoning help. They would deny that Clint had sought Ames’s help and received it. They would swear that the women had overpowered the wicked Moore and escaped.

Ames smiled at Clint and said, “Let’s just hope nobody saw us.” The gagged Clint nodded, then Ames stealthily retraced his earlier steps after leaving the guardhouse door cracked.

Crawling gingerly on their stomachs until they were a safe distance from the fort, Singing Wind and Rebecca snailishly reached a cover of tall grass and bushes. From there, they cautiously made their way to the forest. Well-trained and highly skilled, Singing Wind concealed their tracks from the Crow scouts who were certain to pursue them soon.

Rebecca whispered, “I hope they fall for Major Ames’s tale, or he’s in big trouble. And we are too if we
don’t find a perfect place to hide. We can’t get far on foot and without supplies. Do you think anyone will return in time to rescue us?”

Singing Wind halted her task briefly and replied, “I do not know, Wahea. All camps are busy with raids and defense. These new whites are evil and clever. We must get home to warn them of this new treachery. If we…” The Indian female went silent to check their shadowy surroundings with her keen ears, eyes, and nose.
Someone comes,
she warned with sign language, and the women prepared themselves to confront this new peril.

As the scouts who had been left behind surrounded the two women, Soul-of-Thunder stared at Rebecca Kenny in disbelief. “It
is
you, Wahea,” he stated incredulously, then hugged her tightly and joyfully.

Rebecca knew from Singing Wind’s words that this young man had married her daughter Tashina recently. She hugged him affectionately, for she had known the son of her husband’s best friend since he was a baby. “I am home at last, and I have heard the wonderful news about you and my daughter. I am proud to have you as my son, and I am eager to see my family. We need help. What are you doing here?” she suddenly asked, as if just realizing they had been rescued.

Soul-of-Thunder hurriedly explained their presence and their observations earlier that day. “We were told of Singing Wind’s capture and the attack on the Blackfeet camp and other camps. Silver Hawk was not with us; he was band leader for one of the war parties. We sent word to him along the trail to Fort Henry. When I saw the flaming-haired woman enter the fort with bluecoats, I shivered and rubbed my eyes, then told myself I had not seen what I believed I had. How can this be? All feared you dead or lost to enemies.”

As quickly as she could, for she knew time was short, Rebecca related the highlights of her disappearance and return. “They will discover our escape soon. We must all flee, for many will pursue us. It is not safe here.” She reported the Army’s size and strength, and revealed the evil of its leaders. “We must all leave. If we are to know victory and peace, all tribes must battle this foe as one.”

“That is what we do, Wahea, my new mother; all tribes ride and attack as one to be stronger than our foe. We must leave before they search for you and capture all of us. They are too many for only four scouts to battle. It is good you have returned before Bright Arrow and Singing Wind could join. Little Feet has returned to your camp and joined to White Arrow’s son, Thunder Spirit. Chief Races-the-Buffalo was slain while you were lost,” he rapidly explained at her look of confusion. But Rebecca’s bewilderment had come from his previous statement, and she turned to gaze probingly at the Indian girl.

Singing Wind smiled contritely and entreated, “Do not worry, Wahea; we do not love each other and we will not join. I will explain this matter to you later when we are away and safe, for it requires much talk. My heart belongs to Sun Cloud and I wish to join him. Bright Arrow desires only your return and your love.”

“Why did you not tell me about you and my husband?” she asked.

“It was not the time or place to burden you with news which means nothing. All will be settled soon, you will see.”

Rebecca scoffed. “Means nothing? My husband was going to marry you soon, and you say that means nothing? Tell me everything.”

Soul-of-Thunder comprehended the problem and Rebecca’s reaction to it. He had not thought before
speaking of Bright Arrow’s impending mating, but Singing Wind’s words surprised and intrigued him. He wondered if they were true, or if the girl was only trying to comfort and relax Rebecca. It was clear that Singing Wind had not related this news, and it had shocked and disturbed the mother of his beloved wife.

Soul-of-Thunder said, “Singing Wind is right, Wahea; we must flee quickly and talk later. You have returned; Bright Arrow will not take another in your place; he has suffered greatly over your loss. He only wished to end his torment and to begin a new life. Bright Arrow and Singing Wind were told it was the will of Grandfather for them to join; that is why they agreed.” He spoke with the other scouts and they made plans. Two Sisseton warriors agreed to loan him one of their horses and to ride double to their camp so Rebecca and Singing Wind could ride together. The other Cheyenne warrior would return to his tribe while Soul-of-Thunder escorted the women to the Oglala camp. When the other warriors reached home, they were to send messages to all other tribes, to report their observations and escape.

Soul-of-Thunder warned the women, “The journey is” long and hard and dangerous. We must work together, or all is lost. Obey me swiftly when I speak. The others will trail us for a time and conceal our tracks.”

Rebecca mounted behind Singing Wind and placed her arms around the female’s waist. Singing Wind whispered before they galloped away, “I promise, Wahea, all will be as you remember it and wish it.”

The women’s escape was not discovered until the changing of the guards at dawn because Clint had slammed his forehead against the wall to create a
bloody wound to use as a pretense of a dazing blow, but the too-forceful blow had stunned him for hours. What Clint and Ames did not realize was that Clint’s blow to Moore’s right temple had killed him…

When Clint was questioned in the infirmary, he was distressed to learn of the murder he had committed accidentally, but he stuck to his story about Moore being responsible for his injury and bonds. He told them Moore had been trying to rape Rebecca Kenny and he had tried to prevent it, even after he was bound; he alleged that Moore had whirled on him in a drunken rage when he had threatened to shout for help and had shoved him into the wall, where he had struck his head and lost consciousness and could only assume what had happened afterward: the women must have overpowered Moore and escaped.

Ames speculated cleverly, “Evidently the women didn’t know they had killed him or they wouldn’t have bound and gagged him. You can’t blame them for trying to defend themselves against his brutal attack.”

Butler glanced at Cooper before he argued, “There’s only one problem with your story, Corporal Richards: the Crow scout says a fierce fight went on in there, a fight between men wearing boots. Yep, he says there are three sets of boot tracks in the blockhouse: Corporal Richards’, Colonel Moore’s, and…I wonder who that third set belongs to? Comstock wears moccasins and he was drunk on his butt before ten last night, so it wasn’t him who helped her escape. Too bad those outside got mussed or we could see where they lead. He also says the two women were bound at one point and were cut free. Tell me, how did they get free to attack Colonel Moore? We all know how you feel about them Injuns, so think hard before you answer.”

Clint glanced at Ames as if to ask, what’s going on here?

Ames asked, “Just what are you hinting at, Major Butler? The other tracks probably belong to the guard who locked them up or to the man who brought their food and water. I don’t like your tone, sir.”

“Neither of those men entered the blockhouse, Major Ames. There should only be two sets of female tracks and two sets of boot tracks, Moore’s and Richards’. I find it odd there are three sets of boot tracks. We have an officer dead, Major Ames, so I want all the facts. Savvy?”

Clint found his wits and suggested, “Maybe somebody came in after I was knocked out. Maybe those extra tracks belong to the morning guard. Maybe Moore freed one of the women and she got the drop on him. I told you, sir; he said he was going to rape both of them. He was crazy with whiskey and hatred, and stronger than a bull. Maybe that white girl tricked him; they knew each other from way back.”

“And maybe we got us a traitor in camp,” Butler murmured.

Clint protested, “You ain’t got no right to make such a charge!”

“Settle down, Corporal Richards, I wasn’t talking about you. I think you’re right; I think somebody came in after you were knocked out and helped those little savages escape. Yep, this incident bears a little more investigation and study. Don’t you agree, Major Ames?”

Ames smiled and replied, “Give it up, Butler. I know you want to be rid of me, but you aren’t going to hang this absurd charge on me.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Butler scoffed. “I think you should return to your duties, Major Ames. We’re expecting a little trouble soon, and we need to have the men and supplies ready. You do recall that I outrank you?” Butler hinted tauntingly.

“How could I forget it? You remind me at least once a day. Take it easy, Clint; that’s a nasty bump on your head. I’ll check on you later.”

“Thanks, Major. I’ll be fine,” Clint replied, then smiled, for he realized he had done the only thing he could last night. He would be out of the Army soon, and he could hardly wait to return to Georgia.

Outside the infirmary, Butler said to Cooper, “Those two need watching, sir. I got me a feeling they both know what really happened in that blockhouse last night.”

“Timothy was a fool, Major; he let his loins burn with more revenge than his head. I saw how he looked at that girl after her arrival; I should have warned him to stay clear of her, or to have a guard stand watch while he settled the past on her.”

“You mean, you would have let him have her?” Butler inquired.

“Damn right! She owed him, and how else can a beautiful woman pay off such a large debt? I wouldn’t have minded having a taste of her myself. Damn him,” Cooper muttered in irritation. “That isn’t any way for a good officer to die, or to be found and remembered. I want those two savages back, then we can finish what Timothy started; we’ll punish them real good. Right, Major Butler?”