Lakota Honor (17 page)

He raised his arm and ground his teeth together. He embraced the sting in his muscle while he rotated his shoulder. The flesh burned, but he needed to work the arm so he could depend on it when needed. A paralyzed limb was no good in battle, and he continued to push the muscles as he moved his shoulder.

He glanced down at his chest and the unharmed skin. Aside from his scars, there wasn't even a mark that indicated a bullet had gone through.
Am I going crazy? I was shot here. I know it.
There was no way it could've disappeared so quickly. And why was he in no pain? He inhaled. It was as though it had never happened.

Too much for him to comprehend, he pulled the blanket up and over his shoulders. The room was chilly, and he placed another log onto the glowing embers. Nora knew what had happened the night he was shot. She was withholding where the other bullet struck him, but why? Was she afraid he'd kill her if he knew?
I told her I wouldn't.
She didn't know who hired him to kill the women like her, the ones with the witch-like tendencies. He scoffed. He never believed they held the power the wasichu had spouted of. The large bounty the wasichu paid for each scalp was why he did the work. He closed his eyes, and he'd never forget it.

The need for revenge pushed him to end lives and in return take what was owed. He had to finish the jobs, all of them, because he needed the money. He had to keep his promise. As it was he'd waited too long, been gone too many years. The guilt pushed aside any other emotions and lay heavy inside his stomach. He was a monster, and he had to end what he'd started.

He longed for peace. For a night filled with nothing but sleep. To rid himself of the demons that clawed their way through his soul and lashed out at the beast he'd become. He wished for a day he could laugh without a stab of blame piercing his chest. A moment he could embrace all that he'd done and start fresh—a clean slate.

There were times he'd fallen to his knees, the memories too much, the blood too vivid, the silence too loud, and he'd apologized—begged for their forgiveness only to be shadowed by the killer he was. The hunter who needed no condolence but the sound of justice as it screamed in his ears.

He pressed his face into his hands and rubbed his tired eyes.
It is who I am, what I've become
. He planned and plotted, and now it was time to end it. Now it was time to kill.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Nora waited for the door to close before she rushed to the window and watched Otakatay walk across the lawn. He woke while the chickadees sang, and the orange rays of dawn filtered through the windows of the cabin. Without even tasting the breakfast she'd put out, he'd left to saddle Wakina and find the man who shot him. There was no mention of him returning, only that he'd let her know when it was safe for her to venture out.

She shivered. Who shot him and wanted her dead? And how did they know of the powers she had? She couldn't see Jess saying anything to anyone about the day she healed her, and Joe, well she had faith in his promise, too.
Then who was it?

Mr. Sutherland's face came to mind and his peculiar behaviour the other night. Her brows knitted together. He was a bit strange, but she didn't know him well enough to point a finger at him as the one who wanted her dead. She'd been in his store a few times before selling her mother's jewelry. He was quiet, and she figured that was because Willimena took over most conversations with her loud voice and overbearing mannerisms. She shook her head. He didn't seem the type to hire a bounty on women with a birthmark and a gift.

She wished her mother was still alive. She needed to ask her how she lived with such a secret. How she was able to heal and not be concerned with what people thought. Nora had been judged her whole life, if not by the people she healed, then by her own father. Pa's fear grew into resentment and then shame, until he couldn't be in the same room as her.

He preached to her about the Salem Witch trials back in 1692. How hundreds of people were persecuted without just cause. Husbands watched their wives hang from the gallows or burn at the stake. Many of the accused died within the filthy prisons.

He told the stories to her over and over again, trying to strike fear into her. But with the passing of decades people forgot about the deaths, and their concern turned toward the Indians and the need to place them on reservations. There was hardly any talk now of those who were different—of witches, or magic. But Pa still pushed her to be quiet about her gift, to never use it.

She'd shoved his concern aside, thinking he was being over protective. She never thought someone would want her dead and go far enough to hire a bounty hunter like Otakatay to kill her. Most people were kind after they were healed, thankful even. Yes, there were some who chased her, and some who wanted her for their own use, but there were so few she never heeded Pa's warnings.

She sighed and rubbed her hands together. She watched Otakatay walk inside the livery, and the ache in her chest intensified when he disappeared from her view. She saved his life, helped him when no one else could, and he'd tossed her aside as if she were nothing.

Sure, he said thank you, but she wanted more. She wanted,
love?
She frowned. He was not the kind who cared for someone like her. She couldn't deny that she had feelings for him, but the depth of her emotions even she couldn't see.
I kissed him for goodness sakes.
But was it love, or curiosity? She didn't know. He was a puzzle to her, and she yearned to put him back together.

Maybe it was her healing instinct that pushed her to want to help him. She watched while he fought nightmares. She'd seen his eyes cloud with anger and bitterness. And she hadn't missed the softness escape in fleeting moments before it was quickly hidden, tucked down far inside of him.

The empty room echoed the loneliness she felt, and she wrapped her arms around her middle for comfort. She took one last look out the window before she sat down at the table to eat the fried ham and toast she'd made earlier.

Nora was scrubbing the last plate, when a knock at the door startled her. She froze. Her hands remained in the soapy dish water as she waited, unsure of what she should do. If Pal were here he'd let her know who was there. Even though she'd only had the dog for a few weeks, she missed his companionship. She thought of him often and wondered where he was, and if he was okay.

Another knock.

"C'mon girl, I ain't standin' out here all damn day," Jess hollered.

She laughed and rushed to open the door.

"Bout bloody time." A bright smile spread across her wrinkled face.

"Hello, Jess. It's nice to see you."

She almost hugged her she was so thankful it wasn't the faceless man there to kill her.

"What brings you to town today?" she asked, stepping aside to allow her in.

"It's the first day of summer. Town celebrates it every year." She took off her hat and held it at her side. "There's always a picnic with games and later on a dance. I thought you'd want to go."

"Oh, I don't think—" she stammered.
Otakatay said to stay in the house. Not to venture out.

"You're comin'. You need to get out of this blasted cabin."

She hadn't left the cabin in a while, and a few hours outside wouldn't hurt. She glanced out the window. It was close to lunchtime so surely no one would kill her in front of the whole town in broad daylight. Her cheeks heated.
Don't do it. Stay inside.
She folded her hands together and squeezed. Jess would be with her, it wasn't like she was going out alone. She inhaled and plastered a smile on her face.

"Let me grab my shawl."

It was a short walk to the lawn between the church and the school house. Tables were set with roasted chicken, ham, salad, bread and an array of delicious desserts. Even though she'd eaten breakfast an hour ago, Nora's mouth watered from the smells wafting toward her.

The whole town had shown up, and she smiled while she watched a potato sack race between the adults and kids. To her left was a baseball game, and to her right, four gentlemen were gearing up to play horseshoes. She tipped her face to the warm sun. Today she'd relax and enjoy Jess's company.

They zigzagged in between the blankets spread on the lawn until they found an empty spot near the school. She plopped down and smiled at Jess. The tension in her neck eased, and she set all apprehensions aside so she could enjoy the day.

Otakatay watched the town from the top of the hill. He ran his hand along Wakina's soft mane, glad he was okay. The young boy Seth had found Wakina wandering behind Nora's cabin the night he was shot and brought him to the livery to stay safe and be fed. He was grateful for the boy's fast thinking and caring nature. If not for him, Wakina could've wandered off or been taken by some wasichu.

He focused on the festivities below and tightened his grip on the reins. The town was unaware that a killer lurked amongst them or, he smirked, that one was watching. Tonight he'd kill the white man. He'd make sure Nora was safe, and then he'd carry on with his promise.

He forced himself not to glance at Nora's cabin. It was a warm day, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He hoped the girl listened to him and stayed inside despite the fun being had outdoors. She was safe as long as she didn't open the door. He felt bad for leaving her alone, especially with the white man hunting her, but he had no choice if he wanted to keep her safe.

Nora was different. There was no doubt about that. She was pushy, nosey, and irritating as hell, but something about her pulled at him. The first time they met he'd been drawn to her. There was something unexplainable in the way she held herself, watched him and even spoke. She radiated happy feelings, and it took everything within him not to succumb to the bright smile and warm exterior. The two days he stayed with her almost killed him.

He'd held himself at a distance for fear of being sucked into her smile and gentle attitude. He was none of those things. He stared up into the mountains.
Soon, I will rectify the wrong done.
He'd wasted enough time planning his revenge. Precious days had gone by while he lay in bed with a wounded shoulder. He'd been injured before and never stayed in bed longer than a day. He'd lost valuable time—time needed to finish what he'd started.

After he killed the wasichu, he'd leave the girl and all the soft memories she struck within him, and never return. Soon her face would disappear from his mind, and she'd be nothing more than a mere whisper, barely heard inside his heart. He tapped his heels into Wakina's sides and made his way back to the forest to wait for nightfall.

Nora spun around the street in Mr. Thompson's arms while the band played a lively tune. At first she'd been unsure about dancing with her father's old boss. He was married. His wife's rounded belly was ready to burst any day, but Mrs. Thompson smiled approvingly.

She hadn't laughed this much since she was little and Pa used to tell her funny stories by the campfire. Her cheeks ached as Jed swung her around. She lost her footing, and he slowed their pace and waited for her to catch up. She giggled as they took one more turn around the makeshift dance floor before the song ended, and they were both breathless.

The sun was low in the sky, and men hurried to light the lamps before darkness fell. The line up of young suitors waiting to dance with her seemed to be longer than when she left to dance with Jed. She placed a hand to her chest. She didn't have the energy for another dance. Not one of the men in the line even resembled Otakatay, and she couldn't help the disappointment that settled in her throat.

"I need to rest. I will come back shortly," she said to the waiting men.

A large hand gripped her arm, and before she could turn around, the doctor swung her into a waltz.

"Good evening, Doctor."

She smiled up at him and saw the horrible expression upon his face. His eyes narrowed to slits of green that cut into her, and she shivered.
What was going on?
He worked his jaw, as she was assaulted by the vigorous puffs blowing from his nose.

The sound of his breathing grew louder as his hold on her tightened. She stiffened in his embrace and tried to pull away, but he jerked her closer. He was surprisingly strong. She took a deep breath and tried not to concentrate on the hammering inside her chest. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. She tried again to pull from his grip, but she couldn't move.

"Doctor Spencer, please let me go."

He glared down at her.

She watched as his eyes glazed and he laughed. It was an unforgettable sound, clipped and giddy at the same time.

"I know what you are," he said, and she was sure he'd gone mad the way his eyes flashed with fury.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She wiggled trying to pull herself from him. People danced around them, and she didn't know if she should scream or finish the dance.

"You're evil."

Before she could answer, he pulled her into the center of the floor and shouted. "Nora Rushton is a witch."

Nora's heart stopped right there. The music ceased, and in a matter of seconds all eyes were on her and the doctor.
Oh no. God help me.
She licked her lips and tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. She searched the crowd for Jess and let out a breath when the old woman ambled forward.

"What in tarnation are you talkin' about, Doc? Nora's a nice girl," Jess said.

"This is not something you accuse a kind woman like Nora of," Jed said.

The doctor yanked on her braid pulling it free from the leather strings. She watched as the brown strip fell to the ground, silently mourning its loss. He pulled at her hair loosening the braid until her black tresses hung down over her shoulders and back. He jerked her close, pulled the hair above her left ear and revealed the birthmark.

"See this?" he asked the crowd. "This is the mark they all have. That's how you know they're one of them. It's the mark of the devil."

"What's this all about, Frank? Nora's never done anything to deserve such harsh accusations." Sheriff Reid stepped forward. "Lots of people have birthmarks."

The doctor's fingers dug into her arm, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her lungs burned, and she tried to take a breath but couldn't. People swayed before her as she tried to scan the faces in front of her. The townspeople demanded he let her go, and she dropped her shoulders, releasing some of the tension. She took a step toward Jed and his wife, but was jerked back by the hair.

Jess pulled her Colt. "You let that girl go, Doc, or you'll be spittin' lead for a week."

"I know what she is. You should all fear her," he screamed.

Nora yelped from the snap of pain in her head as he pulled her hair again.

"What proof do you have to support these claims?" Jed asked.

When the sheriff took a step toward them, the doctor raised his gun and shot Jess. Nora's heart lodged in her throat, and her stomach dipped. In the distance she heard the women and children screaming, but all she cared about was getting to Jess, helping her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the sheriff dive for the doctor, and the moment his grip loosened on her arm she yanked it free. With one swift motion Nora dived for Jess, blood poured from her side. The
click
from other guns rang in her ears, but she didn't turn to see if someone was aiming at her. She needed to concentrate. She needed to save her friend's life. Without thinking of the consequences, she placed her hot hands over her friend's wound.