Lakota Honor (3 page)

"I brought my cards. I brought my cards." He held up a stack of blue playing cards. "We can play old man, old man."

She smiled up at him.

"It's Old Maid, Joe," Elwood corrected and leered at Nora.

On his last visit to town she'd told him about the card game. "I'd like that, Joe, but right now I have to get home. I'm all wet."

Disappointment clouded his blue eyes, and he fidgeted with his sticks. Nora's heart ached. She couldn't let him think she didn't like his company, when in fact it was his father's she despised. Elwood had come to call each time he'd been in town. He wanted to court her and thank goodness Pa said no, shutting the door on the fancy dressed miner. He was getting irritated with the constant no's, and she wondered if or when he'd give up.

"How about tomorrow?" she asked. "I'll come by after lunch."

His face lit with joy and he tossed his head from side to side. "Okay, okay," he shouted.

She couldn't keep the smile from her face when he clapped his hands.

"Well, that's right kind of you," Elwood interrupted. "I'll make sure I'm there and we can all dine together. My treat."

Nora's smile disappeared. That was the last thing she wanted. He had a tendency to touch her, a hand on the shoulder or the back and she didn't like it one bit. She didn't want to owe him anything either and dinner with him was sure to have its obligations. "That won't be necessary," she said.

The sun reflected off of his gold tooth as he smiled down at her.

She stood stiff trying not to show her disgust.

"Dinner will be at five. We'll see you tomorrow," he said.

Unsure of what to say, she waved at Joe and spun around to head home. Her arms spiked with goose bumps and she shivered. The last time Elwood was in town he'd caught her behind the livery and tried to kiss her. The thought of his hands on her caused her stomach to revolt. She shook her head. Thank goodness for Seth the stable boy. He'd come around the corner while Elwood had her pinned up against the barn wall. If Seth hadn't shown up, she hated to think what would've happened.

Elwood had made it no secret that he wanted to marry her, and he seemed insulted that she wanted nothing to do with him. Other women gushed over his good looks, fancy clothes and wealth. But it was the cold look in his eyes, and the sense of entitlement to anything and anyone that had her running in the other direction.

Look what I've gotten myself into now.
Mud ran down her ankles and into her boots as she walked. She couldn't let Joe down. The boy had a soft wit about him, and she wished she could heal his legs without any repercussions from his father. But she knew without a doubt, Elwood would use her for his own benefit. He did the same with his own son.

She listened to him brag to the townspeople about what a loving father he was to his simple son. He brought Joe to town for the sympathy and free wares the business owners would give him. She despised the shifty miner for using his own flesh and blood as a pawn.

Joe's wide smile stayed in her mind as she stepped over manure and continued on her way. He was a wonderful boy, and she couldn't figure out how someone so pure and kind came from something so arrogant and scary. It must be from the boy's mother, whoever she was.

How on earth was she going to avoid Elwood tomorrow? The man repulsed her. Every time she saw him, she could feel his eyes undressing her. 
I will be in the dining room, he won't try anything there.

She sighed.

She rounded the corner, relieved to be home. The acrid smell from the blacksmiths filled the air around her. She recognized the aroma from the town often aiding in telling her what time of day it was and when to get home. The morning's air tossed hints of baked bread, afternoon's sweet peas, honeysuckle and grain, and in the evening's wood smoke permeated the air with its spicy scent.

She hesitated at the gate. Pa wasn't home yet. She eyed the livery and then her muddy dress. She scrunched her toes and they squished against soft mud. She really should go home.
A few minutes won't hurt.
The door to the livery let out a sorrowful moan as she pushed it open and went inside. She came here almost every day to see the horses, and after her encounter with Elwood she needed something to calm her nerves.

The strong majestic animals fascinated her. The doctor owned the livery, but Seth Holmes ran it. The boy was no older than sixteen and Nora liked him. He let her come into the barn anytime to feed and groom the horses. Best of all, he sensed that it was to be a secret and never mentioned it to Pa.

She unlatched the palomino's stall. He was the most beautiful animal she'd ever seen. The white mane and tail stood out against his honeyed hair. It was the animal's regal posture that drew her to him. She didn't know who he belonged to, but he was always here when she came.

She glanced behind her at Seth cleaning an empty stall. She wanted to ask him who owned the animal and why they didn't ride him, but she decided not to bother him with her nosey questions.
It didn't matter to her who he belonged to, as long as he was here when she came to visit. She'd give anything to climb on his back and let him run through the valley.
I'd probably break my neck.
A risk worth taking to feel the wind in her hair. To feel fear. Exhilaration. A pulse inside her chest.

Her life wasn't filled with much excitement. The one thing that got her heart racing was sneaking around town. But now, after doing it for so long, she almost wanted Pa to catch her so she could yell and scream and fight with him. So she'd feel something other than the dull, repetitive, ho-hum emotions blended into the tasteless broth that was her life.

She grabbed the brush from the bucket and she nuzzled her face to his.

"Hello, Ghost."

CHAPTER FOUR

Elwood drove the wagon toward the white-washed hotel at the edge of town. He couldn't get the image of Nora Rushton out of his head. She was beautiful, and he'd love nothing more than to have her for his wife. When would she come to her senses and marry him? He was tired of waiting. She was a prize. A delicate little morsel he could nibble on whenever he needed.

Her long black hair and striking blue eyes held a hint of what lay beneath her dress. He was as sure as the money in the bank, under the frills and lace there was more to take his breath away. Hell, everywhere he'd go people would be jealous with her on his arm. He could show her off when he wanted to and keep her locked up until their children were born.

He snickered.

Joe hummed beside him. It was annoying and he glared at him.

"Stop that hummin' boy, or you'll be sorry."

"How come, Pa? How come?"

The invalid often repeated himself, and it drove Elwood crazy. Joe's brain didn't work like everyone else's. He was a burden, but he had value. People felt sorry for him, Nora in particular, and Elwood used that to his advantage by bringing Joe to town.

June waited outside the hotel for them, and he was glad the hotel maid had finished her errands in time to take Joe off his hands. He tipped his hat to two ladies walking past. Most of the people in town liked him, but it was his money and his business they liked more.

He didn't give a damn about the good people of Willow Creek, or any others for that matter. All he cared about was how much coal came out of his mountain and how fat his wallet was.

Five years ago he'd sold a few hundred acres of land near the mine at two dollars an acre above the price it was worth. He'd loaned the farmers money when the banks wouldn't. His plan had worked great. He charged high interest rates and collected regularly. And if he wasn't paid on time, he'd take the land and whatever was on it.

He'd raked in some good cash and was one of the wealthiest men in the area. Women threw themselves at his feet begging for a taste of his attention, and he'd obliged of course, using them for what he wanted and then discarding them. But Nora had never glanced his way. She never batted her lashes or pushed her breasts up at him.

He hunched over to set the brake. There were a few things that money couldn't buy and he'd made his living on taking whatever he wanted. He wanted Nora and damn it he'd get her.

"C'mon, Joe. We're here." Elwood jumped down from the seat and got their bags. The boy shimmied his way to the edge, and Elwood helped him down. At sixteen, Joe acted more like he was five. His head bobbed from side to side, and he started humming again.

"Joe," Elwood growled.

"Is June-bug here? Is she? Is she?" Joe propped one thick stick under each arm and hunched into them. Over the last two years, his back had curved and he'd grown a bump behind his neck. The Doc said it couldn't be corrected and Elwood didn't care. The more pitiful Joe appeared the more sympathy his loving father got. He took hold of Joe's arm and helped him along the walk. The bags were heavy and the boy was slow. He squeezed Joe's arm.

"Hurry up, Son," he whispered through a fake smile.

"Yes, Pa. Yes. Yes."

Joe's legs shook and Elwood held him upright. Once inside the doors of the hotel, Elwood handed Joe over to June.

"Mr. Calhoun," June greeted him. The older woman had worked at the hotel for years, and Elwood paid her a handsome amount to watch over Joe while he was in town. Lucky for him, she'd taken to Joe right away.

"Afternoon, June." Elwood moved around her to drop his bags onto the polished floor of the hotel lobby.

"Mr. Calhoun, glad to see you back in town, sir," Milton Smith, the owner, said. He picked up Elwood's bags. "Your room is ready. This way, sir."

He followed Milton to a room on the second floor, and headed straight for the bottle of whiskey he always demanded be there when he came to town. He poured himself a drink from the heavy glass decanter while June helped Joe up the stairs.

Elwood shrugged and took another swig.

The kid was more of a pain in the ass than anything. He poured himself another drink. But Joe's friendship with Nora served a purpose.

"I'm hungry. I'm hungry," Joe said as he hobbled into the room. His crutches scraped on the wooden floor and made Elwood wince.

"Pick those damn things up." He pointed at the boy's sticks.

Joe did as he was told and lost his balance. He would've fallen over if June hadn't caught him.

"Joe, darling you go ahead and scrape those sticks all you want to. It doesn't bother me none." June glared at Elwood.

Joe's blue eyes began to tear and his bottom lip trembled. He shook his head from side to side.

"Elwood, you tell this boy he can use his sticks the way he did before."

June was angry, and Elwood knew if he didn't say something to Joe, the whole damn town would know what he'd done. June sat on all the town committees. His horrible manner toward the boy would spread like wildfire and he'd be shunned.

"Go on." He waved his hand. "Walk with 'em the way ya were." He emptied the glass in one gulp leaving a trail of fire down his throat.

"Come now, dear, I made cookies today in hopes you'd stop by. They're in the kitchen."

"Mmmm. Cookies. I love cookies. I love cookies."

The maid giggled. "I know, dear. I baked them for you, and once you're settled we'll go down and get a few."

"Thank you, thank you, June-bug." His eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings.

Elwood rolled his eyes at the way people fawned all over the crippled kid. If June knew how he treated the boy back home, she'd shoot him for sure. Hell, he couldn't be expected to care for a simple minded kid. He didn't even like him. But he was his ticket to getting what he wanted.

He filled his glass again and swirled the gold liquid around before bringing it to his lips. The heady scent filled his nostrils and he inhaled. Yes, he'd have what he wanted. All of it. And no one would stand in his way.

CHAPTER FIVE

He saw the shadow on the stone wall. The long black snake snapped and buckled in the air behind him. The crisp crack echoed throughout the damp chamber. His hands were bound to a thick wooden pole, the same one he and two other boys had pounded into the ground a month ago—for this purpose. For pain. For torture. For fear.

He braced himself, closed his eyes and took a deep breath holding it within his lungs until they ached with the need for air. He pictured his Ina. Crack. The pain was instant. His flesh burned, and he could feel his skin as it hung in ripped pieces from his body. Crack. Again the long snake wielded its coiled end and bit into his back. Blood splattered onto the dirt floor. He tried to focus on the tiny dots that melted into the ground and disappeared at his feet, but his vision blurred.

Crack. He couldn't take anymore. He gasped as his body screamed in agony while his flesh was forever branded. The pain sliced through his ribs and into his very soul, filling him with hatred for the wasichu. His stomach rolled. Yellow bile spewed from his mouth and ran down his chest. Crack. The weight of the whip buckled his knees and he hung from the leather band tied around his wrists. The wounds on his back oozed and throbbed. His head lulled to the side, and he closed his eyes.

Otakatay woke from the dream panting. His heart thundered in his chest, and his body was moist with sweat. The moon was still high in the sky. He lay motionless on his sleeping mat and listened to the crickets sing, as the light breeze clapped the leaves together. The nightmare still vivid in his mind, he tried to abandon the awful memories and think of something else—something peaceful.

Had he been anyone else, peace might've come easy. But for him, a slayer of women and men, there was no such thing. He hunted with purpose, for a promise made. And he'd do whatever was necessary to fulfill it.

He thought of the man who hired him to kill the
witkowin
, the crazy woman and his lips thinned. The wasichu was evil, like his father. They both had the empty stare but one still walked this earth.

He sat up and struggled for a breath that wasn't paired with a sharp pain in his ribs. As he stretched his strong arms above his head, his back seized and spasms shook his whole body. The muscles didn't recuperate after the last time. The wounds had healed, but the flesh was a mangled, deformed mess. Rigid and raised the scars drew a grotesque pattern on his back and sides.

He traced a long, bevelled scar down his forearm. He would never forget the pain he'd endured. It intoxicated him and afterward he felt delusional. Full of angst and fear wondering if he was ever going to escape the dreadful memories of the life he'd been thrust into. He grabbed his shirt. Within the vacant eyes of the forest he went without one. When living among the wasichu
,
he never took it off.

He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair to untangle it. A fingertip caressed the eagle feather tied on the side, and his chest seized.
I promise.

Wakina neighed and stomped a hoof, and Otakatay came alert. He grabbed his knife, rolled to the side and in two quick, soundless strides was behind a tree, waiting. He heard a branch snap, and then another and another. He raised his blade.

A deer pranced through the campsite and stopped at the bushes on the other side. The large buck stared straight at him.

He lowered his knife.

The deer bolted, disappearing into the trees.

"You should've known it was a helpless deer," he said to Wakina.

The horse turned his head, ignoring him.

He smiled and dug into his saddle bag for an apple. He sliced the shiny red globe in half, gave one piece to Wakina and took a bite out of the other.

The horse didn't even chew it, but swallowed the fruit whole.

"You, my friend, are a glutton."

Wakina bowed his gray head and nudged Otakatay's hand for more of the apple.

"I don't think so." He held up the fruit. "This is mine."

After he finished his half of the apple, he picked up a few dry branches and brought them to the pile of ash near his bed roll. Once he had the wood smoking he blew on it to fuel the fire. Satisfied with the height of the flames, he gutted and cooked the fish he'd caught yesterday.

Leaning against his saddle, he picked at the trout on his plate. The moon made its descent. The sky changed to orange and yellow as the first rays of dawn shone down.

Nora woke early and prepared some coffee. She added two more tablespoons of the grounds to make it extra strong. Pa had been out late the night before and lay slumped over the sofa. One arm dangled to the floor, while the other was tucked under his chest. She checked the tin in the cupboard above the stove. The money was gone. There had been thirty dollars in there. He'd taken it to gamble and drink, again.

Her face heated as anger raced through her veins. They were never going to have their own place if he continued on like this. Now with all their money gone, how would they survive until the end of the month?

She checked the cupboards, cornmeal, yeast, baking soda, one jar of fruit, one jar of meat and nothing more. She was thankful for her garden, but that wouldn't feed them for long. The garden was planted for the purpose of supplementing their meals. With no meat and no money the garden would feed them for another week.

Oh Pa, why? Why did you do this?
She poured coffee into two cups.

"Pa, it's time to get up," she sang. "You don't want to be late for work."

She sat at the table and watched through half-closed eyes as her father dislodged his arm from under his chest. He groaned. The front of his shirt was stained brown, and an overwhelming odor invaded her nostrils. She covered her mouth and nose. He'd thrown up all over himself and the sofa.

Pa's face lost all color, and she knew he smelled the vomit, too.

She stood. "Here, Pa, let me help you."

He waved his arm at her. "No."

"But, Pa."

He swayed and almost fell from the sofa.

"Leave me be."

Tears formed in her eyes. What was happening to him? He was no longer the man she knew. She went to him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

He pushed her hand away, and ripped the soiled shirt off tossing it onto the floor. "I don't need your damn help."

She stepped back toward the table.

His pale face contrasted with swollen red eyes that glared up at her. "You left the yard. Jed said he saw you walking toward the forest yesterday."

Oh dear.

"I didn't go far, just enough to set the hawk free, that's all."

He swayed. "You know the rules. You've disobeyed me."

She held her tongue. Pa was provoking her. She'd seen this many times before when he'd had too much to drink and wanted to put the blame on her. If she took the bait, he'd be packing up their things and they'd be gone within the hour.

"I'm sorry, Pa. It won't happen again."

He tried to stand, and swayed to the side falling onto the sofa and into the mess there.

She grabbed the wet cloth on the counter and brought it to him.

"Here, let me help you."

"Get away from me." He swung at the cloth in her hand missing it by a foot.

She dropped the cloth onto the table and fled to her room closing the door behind her. She could hear him trying to get up off the sofa. The table shifted and something banged against the far wall. She cringed.

Pa went to work feeling the effects of his drinking almost every day, but this morning was different. He was still drunk.

She gnawed on her bottom lip while she waited for him to wash his face, dress and leave for work. Wanting to escape, she glanced at the window. She'd just promised Pa she'd stay in the cabin but a walk in the forest would do her some good. He wasn't going to check on her or say goodbye. She'd clean the mess when she got back. She braided her hair and crawled out the window. The morning air smelled much better than the awful stench inside the cabin.

Pa's drinking had always been a problem. When she was younger she'd find him in an alley curled up in his own vomit and urine sobbing about how he couldn't save her mother. Not strong enough to carry him home she'd sit and console him. He drank to forget and Nora was the reminder of what he'd lost. When he found out she could heal, he drank even more, distancing himself from his only child. He spent every night at the saloon gambling and drinking. She hadn't seen a glimpse of happiness in him in years.

She shook her head. Was their life that bad? Sure, she'd complained and argued with him for freedom; she'd do anything for him to loosen the rope tied around her neck. But was this life terrible enough to become inebriated every night? She pursed her lips.

She passed the Mercantile, and her shoulders slumped. They had no money. He'd gambled everything. How was she supposed to fix this? She couldn't get a job.

"Oh, damn it."

She shoved her hands inside her apron pockets. The hotel stood at the north end of Main Street and backed onto the forest. She had no problem walking past it except when Elwood was in town. She shivered and pulled her hands from the apron to rub along her arms.

When the mine owner was in Willow Creek she stayed close to home, but this time she'd have to see him. She promised Joe a game of cards this afternoon, and she couldn't let the boy down because his father was no good. She was determined to visit with him over a card game and not let Elwood intimidate her.

Lush moss blanketed the forest floor. She untied her boots and slipped them off. A squirrel ran along a branch above her, hesitated and then jumped to another. She giggled. Animals always had a way of calming her. Life never seemed awful in the thick of the forest.

Roots burst from the ground mangled and barbaric, and she stepped over them. She inhaled and her mind filled with the fresh, balsamic scent of pinecones. She skimmed the prickly pine leaf.  She always loved the spruce trees. They never lost their glorious greenery in the winter like the others. Tall and magnificent, they stood like proud soldiers within the dense forest. They looked beautiful at Christmas time decorated with ribbons and candles, too.

A branch broke to her left, and a hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She struggled for air. She squirmed, trying to wiggle loose, but her arms were held tight to her sides. Cold steel pushed into her throat, and she froze.

"Quiet wasicun winyan—white woman," a low voice said from behind her.

She could see from the corner of her eyes, a dark hand across her mouth.
Indian!
She was going to be taken captive. She would be a slave for the rest of her life. Visions of wild Indians tearing at her clothes invaded her mind. Their filthy hands pawed at her virginal skin, taking from her what she fought to keep. She tried again to move, but his hand tightened around her mouth and he pushed the blade closer.

The forest floor swayed before her as the truth of what her future would be slammed into her chest. She pushed forward vomiting into his hand and all over her cheeks and chin.

A loud growl erupted from behind her, and she was thrown to the ground.

"Ahh, shit." His back was to her as he knelt down and washed his hand in the river.

She saw the glint of the knife in the shallow water. She needed to run, to scream, to get the hell out of there. She tried to move her legs, but the limbs proved useless.

"Clean your face." He stood over her now.

Afraid to make eye contact, she examined his moccasins. She'd never seen a pair this beautiful and wondered if his wife had made them. She'd heard of Indians taking more than one wife, and she drew back.
Oh, God. Please don't let that be his plan.

"Go!"

She crawled to the river, cupped her hand in the cold water and splashed her face. She swished water in her mouth and spat it onto the ground.

"Get up."

She struggled to her feet, and her stomach rolled. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Nora's eyes met his. Her breath caught, and she took an unconscious step back. It was him. The stranger she'd seen the other day. Long, black hair framed his face. Dark stubble covered a strong jaw and high cheekbones. He wore black pants and a shirt opened halfway down his chest. She could see the muscles bunched there.

A scar peeked out of his collar and ran up his neck disappearing behind his hair. He stood at least a foot and half taller than her. Almond shaped charcoal eyes bore down upon her. If he meant to intimidate her, he had succeeded. He resembled evil, hatred and death all rolled into one. She shivered. The urge to run consumed her.

She tried to speak, but a lump had lodged inside her throat and nothing came out.

He stepped toward her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and waited.

He grabbed her braid and pulled her head back, exposing her throat. This was it, she was going to die. A tear slid down her cheek. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She had to calm down. She felt the Indians chest rub against her shoulder as he exhaled beside her. Leaves scrunched under his moccasins. The frigid blade bit into her flesh.