Savage Skies (20 page)

“My dear, a riverboat is expected very soon, and my husband will gladly pay your passage anywhere you wish to go,” Hannah said, reaching down and gently shoving a fallen lock of hair back from Speckled Fawn's eyes. “All you have to do is name a city and your way will be paid to that destination.”

“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness,” Speckled Fawn said, taking Hannah's hand and gently holding it. “You are so very, very kind.”

She clung to the hand, pretending it gave her a measure of comfort, as she again lowered her eyes and elaborated on her fictitious story. “I was alone in my cabin with my husband and child,” she sobbed out. “Renegades came and killed my husband and daughter. They took me captive.”

She looked slowly up at the women. “While the renegades slept, I . . . I . . . managed to escape,” she said. “Somehow I managed to get to this fort. Thank the Lord, I was taken in. By the grace of God, I hope to begin a new life and put this all behind me. But it will be hard. I shall find it so hard to forget my husband and daughter's murder.”

“We are so very sorry for all that you have been forced to endure,” Hannah said, sighing heavily. “We've brought you clean clothes, bathwater, and we shall bring you food soon. Is there anything else you might want?”

“Yes, there is,” Speckled Fawn said, her
pulse racing, for she knew her request was going to widen these women's eyes.

But she must ask, or her plan would never work.

“What is it, dear, and it is yours,” Hannah said. She gently placed a hand on Speckled Fawn's cheek, although she visibly shuddered at touching such a dirty face.

“Could you please bring me a bottle of whiskey?” Speckled Fawn blurted out, amused to see how that suggestion affected the women.

Utterly shocked, the women gasped, almost in unison.

“You see,” Speckled Fawn hurried on to say, “I'm not normally a drinker, but I need to find a way to help me forget what I witnessed. The blood . . . the screams.”

The women turned pale and looked questioningly at each other.

“Truly, I don't know how else to erase the awful memories of my child and husband being slaughtered,” Speckled Fawn said, wiping false tears. “Please understand I have been raised by the Bible's teachings and taught that alcohol is a sin. But at times like this—”

“We understand,” Hannah said, interrupting Speckled Fawn. “Judith, if you feel that alcohol will help you sleep tonight, you shall have your whiskey. I can see how it might help.” She smiled sheepishly. “I must admit that I sneak a tiny sip of whiskey from time to time, to help ease my qualms about some of the ungodly
things my husband has been forced to do by his career. I shall bring you my own personal silver flask for you to sip from, but I would like the flask back in the morning.”

Speckled Fawn was finding it amusing to see how shocked the two other women were by what Hannah had admitted about her drinking.

They continued to stare at her, their eyes wide, their faces now flushed rather than pale, at the knowledge that a woman of such high standing as Hannah Cline would drink such a foul thing as whiskey.

“I do thank you again for your kindness to me,” Speckled Fawn said, then hung her head. “I would like to be alone now. I . . . I . . . would like to bathe, change my clothes, then rest.”

She looked hurriedly up at Hannah. “Please bring the whiskey soon, for I am tormented by hideous visions, images that will haunt me for the rest of my life,” she said, swallowing hard. “At least for tonight the whiskey can help erase such thoughts. Please bring it soon, Hannah. Please?”

“Wait and bathe after I get the whiskey, for I shall run and fetch it right now,” Hannah said, turning and walking briskly to the door. She stopped and turned and looked at the women. “I believe I can trust you to keep my little secret to yourselves?”

The women nodded, assuring their silence.

“Thank you,” Hannah murmured. “Now I think this woman needs her privacy, don't you?”

The women nodded and brushed past her;
then Hannah gave Speckled Fawn another smile over her shoulder and left as well.

Speckled Fawn laughed to herself, then knelt on the bed so she could gaze through the window at the cabin that she knew was occupied by Shirleen's husband. Its whereabouts had been explained carefully to her by the warrior who had followed Earl and his daughter earlier.

It was growing dark outside now, and she could see lamplight at the other cabin window.

She flinched when she saw a man silhouetted by the light. She knew it was Earl.

Then she felt her heart fill with love when she saw a child, and knew that she was looking at Shirleen's daughter.

“I will come for you soon, my darling,” Speckled Fawn whispered, then felt the color drain from her face as she heard someone move up behind her in the cabin.

She turned, pale, and found herself gazing directly into Hannah Cline's eyes.

“What were you saying?” Hannah asked, holding a silver flask hidden beneath the end of her lacy shawl. “I am half deaf. Did you hear me come into the cabin? Were you saying something to me?”

A rush of relief flooded Speckled Fawn's senses. The words she had spoken to herself out loud had not been understood.

“I was saying a prayer,” Speckled Fawn said, leaving the bed and standing beside Hannah. “I saw the first star of the evening shining
brightly overhead. You know, the one that comes before total darkness falls.”

“Yes, I know,” Hannah said, slowly slipping the flask from beneath her shawl. “Here. Take it. But do not let any of the soldiers see it. My husband has no idea that I drink. A friend of mine steals the liquor from her husband's liquor cabinet and shares it with me.”

Hannah giggled. “I have no idea how she explains the loss of the whiskey to her husband,” she said. “Perhaps he accepts her pastime of drinking. Mine never would. He is too proud a man. He would never tolerate my doing something that he himself detests.”

“I shall be very careful,” Speckled Fawn said, taking the flask from Hannah. “I would never tell anyone who gave this to me. I just hope those two women who came with you will truly keep your secret.”

“I am the wife of a powerful colonel. If those women know what's best for them and their husbands, they will keep their mouths shut,” Hannah said tightly.

Then she quickly added. “Just don't you get caught.”

“You can trust me,” Speckled Fawn said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I shall leave you now,” Hannah said. “Food will be brought soon.”

“Hannah, please don't bring me any food, or allow anyone else to,” Speckled Fawn said. “My stomach would not tolerate food right
now. I shall wait for breakfast, if that is alright with you.”

“But whiskey should not be consumed on an empty stomach,” Hannah protested.

“I know, but still, I just cannot even imagine eating now,” Speckled Fawn said. “I . . . I . . . believe I would vomit the moment the food hit my stomach.”

“I shall leave word that you do not want to dine with us tonight, nor do you want any supper brought to you here,” Hannah said, placing a gentle hand on Speckled Fawn's face. “But please do be careful how much whiskey you consume on an empty stomach.”

“I shall,” Speckled Fawn promised. “I shall drink just what it takes to help lull me to sleep.”

Hannah quickly hugged Speckled Fawn, then left, closing the door behind her.

“Whew,” Speckled Fawn said, sighing heavily. “This is much harder than I imagined it would be.”

She was not a practiced liar, but those lies were required in order for her to steal the child away.

She said a soft prayer that she would soon be with her husband again, and that Shirleen would be reunited with her daughter.

“I must succeed,” she whispered as she held the flax out before her. “Yes, I must.”

She gazed at the flask, then giggled. “If my dear mother could see me now,” she murmured.
“Oh, Mama. You would surely condemn me to hell if you knew what a sinner I can be.”

But she did not really believe she was sinning tonight. She was thinking of anyone but herself!

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains.

—Keats

Finally it was dark enough for Speckled Fawn to put her plan in motion. She felt it was safer for her to go to Earl's cabin after it got dark, hoping she wouldn't be seen. As she first stepped outside, she surveyed everything around her and saw that most inhabitants of the fort were inside their cabins.

She knew that at least one sentry would be keeping watch at the gate. She was hoping this sentry would fall asleep as the night wore on and she was ready to escape from the fort with Megan.

A lot of things had to fall into place or all would be lost for her. But for now the important thing was to be invited inside Earl's cabin, for she had the flask of whiskey hidden in her blouse as she stepped up to Earl's door.

She looked quickly around her. Seeing no one, she knocked.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for the door to open. She knew he was still inside the cabin because she had slipped up to a window and taken a look before coming to the door.

She also knew that Megan was asleep on a small cot against the far wall.

The only other furniture in the cabin were a table and two chairs in the center of the room, as well as two comfortable-looking armchairs before a roaring fire.

She gathered that this was not a cabin used by a family but by a bachelor officer who used it primarily for sleeping. His meals were surely taken at the mess hall in the center of the courtyard.

Finally the door opened. Shirleen found herself looking into cold blue eyes as Earl stared glassily back at her. She saw how bloodshot his eyes were, and he reeked of alcohol. He must have already consumed a good amount of liquor.

She smiled to herself. The fact that he was already half drunk would help advance her plan that much more quickly.

“Why are you here?” Earl asked, his voice slurred. “As far as I can tell, there ain't nothin' here that should interest you.”

“Your little girl,” Speckled Fawn said, looking past him at the sleeping child. “I saw you earlier with the child. I . . . I . . . just recently lost my own daughter. Can I come in and see her? I am so lonesome for my baby.”

“I heard about your tragedy,” Earl said slyly, his blue eyes suddenly gleaming. He gestured with a hand. “Come on in. Take a gander at my little girl, if that will make your loss easier for you. But as you can see, my Megan's asleep. Don't wake her up.”

“I won't,” Speckled Fawn said, slipping past him before he had a chance to change his mind.

Hearing him speak Megan's name gave Speckled Fawn confirmation that this was the right child.

She went and stood over Megan, seeing how truly lovely she was, and how innocent. “I am so alone in the world now,” she said, turning slowly to look at Earl, who came and stood behind her. “You seem alone, too. Can I stay for a while and talk?”

Earl slowly looked her up and down until he had gotten a full view of the buxom woman that she was. “Yeah, and how's about a drink with me?” he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I'm lonely, too. Let's keep each other company for a while.”

His eyes widened when Speckled Fawn slid the flask from beneath her blouse. “Well, what have we here?” he said, chuckling.

Speckled Fawn flinched when he grabbed the flask from her. “Come on,” he said, drool spiraling from a corner of his mouth. “Sit. Drink.” He winked at her. “Then maybe we can have ourselves some fun, if you know what I mean.”

“Sir, I . . . just . . . lost my husband and
daughter,” Speckled Fawn said, faking sadness. “But if you think it'd be alright, I would like to drink with you. That's why I brought the whiskey. I needed someone to drink with.”

She frowned at him. “But that's all I want from you,” she said firmly. “Company and booze. That's it. Do you understand?”

“That sounds good enough for me,” Earl said, flopping down on a chair.

He motioned for her to sit down opposite him at the table. “Here,” he said. “You brought the booze. You take the first drink from it. Go ahead. Take a swig.”

He suddenly scooted the flask across the table to her.

Despising the very sight of the man, yet knowing she must proceed with the plan and then get out of there as quickly as she could, Speckled Fawn took the flask from him. She hadn't had a drink for many years and knew how quickly she could get drunk. She had to play it safe.

“Got a glass?” she asked, not wanting to share the taste of the man's mouth on the flask after he took a drink from it.

“Yep, think I can manage to find one,” Earl said, stumbling out of his chair. He went to a small cabinet on the wall just above a table where a basin of water sat. He took two glasses from the cabinet, then went back and sat down on his chair opposite her.

He scooted one of the glasses over to her.

He watched with squinted eyes as she poured herself a small amount of whiskey.

“That's all you're gonna drink?” he asked, chuckling. “Just like a woman to brag about wantin' to drink, then you can't stand the taste of it. Go ahead. Drink what you like. I'll have no trouble drinkin' the rest.”

Glad he assumed that most women hated whiskey, she smiled and took a sip.

He threw his head back in a fit of laughter. “That ain't enough to drown a fly in,” he said as he took the flask back from her. “But it just leaves more for me.”

When the whiskey hit Speckled Fawn's belly, she cringed. This had to be the worst liquor she had ever tasted. And she knew it was very strong.

She was glad that Earl wasn't pushing any more on her. She would just take delight in watching him get drunker and drunker, and then take advantage of him when she could.