She Returns From War (15 page)

"Look at it closely, hunter," the woman said.

Cora rolled her eyes. Crouching down, she held the lantern over the strip of flesh. Her smirk slowly faded, and she smoothed the skin out with her free hand. The blood drained from her face. She shot a quick look at the woman before storming into the shadows.

Victoria watched the light from the hunter's lantern retreat, confused and frightened by her reaction. Left alone between the two creatures, she backed up until she could see them both without turning her head. The Indian paid her no heed, but she could feel the man's blue eyes on her. Her arms ached, but she kept the rifle raised, reminding both herself and him that she still had the power to kill him.

A roar of anger filled the barn. It was so loud and full of rage that it was barely human, and Victoria took it at first for another clap of thunder. Cora charged back into the group, revolver drawn, face red with fury. She pressed the barrel against the woman's forehead.

"What did you do?"

The woman regarded her with calm black eyes. "As I said, it is a warning."

Cora pulled the hammer back. "Where is my horse?"

"Dead."

Orange light glinted on the Colt's barrel as Cora stepped back and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Instead of a gunshot's deafening report, the revolver simply clicked.

In a blink, the woman's hand came from nowhere, knocking the gun away. It flipped end-over-end into the shadows. Cora reached for her saber, but the woman grabbed her wrist. "Be still."

Cora's other fist smashed into the woman's jaw. The woman rocked backward, but she didn't release the hunter's arm. When Cora hauled back for a second blow, the Indian caught the swinging fist in her palm. "Be still," she said again.

Cora spat in her face. "Go to hell."

"I offer you this chance, hunter," the woman said, "because we share the pain of loss."

The hunter deflated a little. "What are you talking about?"

"Do not ask idle questions. I know of your husband."

Cora lowered her arms. "How?"

"I heard you speak of him."

"When?" Cora asked, confusion bleeding into the anger on her face.

"Earlier today," the woman replied. "You told the young one of your husband as you rode toward this place."

"How do you know that?"

The woman motioned toward the hide. "I was your horse."

Cora blinked at her, then threw back her head and filled the barn with laughter. Victoria and the blue-eyed man openly stared at her, and even the Indian woman seemed confused by her reaction. True, the woman's reply made little sense, but Victoria hardly thought it merited such an uproarious guffaw.

The echoes soon died out, and Cora shook her head. "I got to hand it to you, that is the best yarn I've heard in a good while. Them boys back at the 
Print Shop
 could have a few lessons from you on spinning tales."

"I do not deceive you," the woman said. She pointed at Victoria, who shifted uneasily at the attention. "That one fired her weapon at a bush, and her horse fled at the sound. When you killed the rabbit for your supper, you made her tie it to her horse. You spoke of the importance of animals and of your husband."

As the woman went on, the smile disappeared from Cora's face. Her eyes grew stony. Victoria watched her countenance change, the rifle all but forgotten in her hands.

"Well, ain't that odd," Cora said when the woman finished. "You was dogging us all the way from town, and I never knew. You Indians got some first-rate tracking skills, you know that?"

"Believe what you will," the woman replied. "But I urge you to take this chance and escape with your lives. Return with Victoria Dawes to the east, hunter. Assist her with her demons. Leave the land of my people, and do not return."

"I ain't about to take orders from the same squaw that done killed my horse," Cora said. "We ain't settled until I take that price out of your hide."

Before the woman could respond, Cora spun toward Victoria and snatched the rifle from her hands. Victoria stepped backward, stunned, as the hunter swiveled back toward her enemy. The Winchester's barrel spouted flame, but the Indian was no longer where she had stood a moment before. Cursing, Cora chambered another round and fired at the fleeing shadow. The silver bullet sailed over the woman's head and out into the falling rain.

"Cora, behind you!" Victoria screamed.

Without missing a beat, the hunter spun in place. The rifle's barrel cracked across the blue-eyed man's face as he charged, sending him tumbling to one side. Cora followed his roll, sending a round through his leg. He bellowed in anger, but before she could put a bullet through his head, he recovered and fled into the night.

Seconds passed, marked by the pounding of Victoria's heart. The ringing in her ears faded, replaced by the hollow drumming of rain on the roof. Cora kept the rifle pointed at the open door, every muscle stretched taut, waiting for the slightest movement. None came.

A gunshot cut through the sound of falling rain as fire lit the inside of the barn. Cora worked the action, aimed at the roof, and fired again. Between shots, Victoria could hear the hunter's rage-filled screaming. Only when she had emptied the rifle's magazine did she fall silent, her back to the young Englishwoman.

"Get your things," the hunter said without turning.

"But-"

"Do it!"

Cora's voice cut the air like a whip-crack, making Victoria jump. Scrambling for the lantern, she raised it above her head and began searching for her lost crucifix. Her boot swept from side to side, pushing loose straw out of the way. Behind her, she heard a steady metallic clicking as the hunter loaded fresh bullets into her rifle. Victoria could sense Cora's impatience mounting with each one. She swept faster.

A few tense seconds later, she heard the unmistakable sound of wood tumbling on wood. Chasing it with both lantern and hand, she pulled her crucifix from a small pile of straw. It looked none the worse for the wear.

Tucking it in her belt where it belonged, she looked at Cora. "Done."

"What about your gun?"

"It's back in the house," Victoria said, letting her frustration leak into her voice. "It's useless now. That Fodor Glava person bent the barrel backward."

"Get my gun, then," Cora said. "I think it fell over there somewhere."

Victoria sighed. Lifting the lantern again, she moved to where the gun looked like it may have fallen and began her search. When she located the Colt, she slipped it into her empty holster and returned to Cora's side. "Got everything?" the hunter asked. Victoria nodded. "I'd say we're done here," Cora said. "No point spending the night out here. You ready for another wetting?"

"I suppose so. Do you want your gun back?"

"Hang on to it a spell. We can't have you running around defenseless, now can we?" Victoria blushed, but Cora had already turned toward the door. "Tie that light to your belt so you got your hands free. Never know if they're planning on jumping us out there."

Victoria did as instructed, then pulled the crucifix from her belt. "Ready."

The hunter plunged into the downpour, vanishing from sight almost instantly. Holding her breath, Victoria followed. The shock of cold water made her flinch. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself, keeping the crucifix extended toward the darkness.

NINE

The sun shone down on the woman and her husband as they walked side-by-side along the road. A grey mule plodded beside them, flicking its ears at buzzing flies. New rations were strapped across the mule's strong back. The woman knew it hurt her husband's pride to beg for rations from the American soldiers, but she would not let them starve. She had known enough of hunger.

In the distance, she saw a cloud of dust slowly moving toward them. Shapes soon became clear within it. A small band of soldiers, no more than half a dozen. A patrol returning to the fort after a day roaming the desert. She had seen many such groups near the American fort. While she did not like them, neither did she fear them. They were enforcers of the American laws, but they could not interfere with the
 Dine
. Their treaty said as much.

The woman and her husband continued walking along the road as it stretched across the land. The soldiers drew nearer, the cloud of dust billowing out behind them like a storm. Soon, she felt the thunder of the horses' hooves in the ground. They moved aside to let the soldiers pass, leading their mule into the scrub by the side of the road.

As they rode by, one of the soldiers pulled his horse around and rode toward the woman and her husband. He had the wide mustache favored by so many Americans, and his teeth flashed white beneath it as he smiled at them.

"Where might you be going?" he asked.

"Home," she answered. She had learned their speech while living at
 Hweeldi.

"Not with our food, you aren't," the soldier said.

"This food is ours," she said, laying a hand on the mule's grey coat.

"Grew it yourselves, did you?" By now, the other soldiers had gathered around the one that spoke.

"No," her husband said.

"That's what I thought," the soldier said. "Now just hand it on over and you can be on your way."

"It is ours," her husband said, standing to his full height.

"Not anymore, it's not."

The soldier spurred his horse toward them. Her husband pulled the woman out of its way, then turned back to the man. The soldier had taken the donkey's lead rope in his hand. Her husband reached for it, and the man cracked him across the face with his other hand. "Don't you threaten me, boy."

Her husband staggered back a pace, then stood to face the man. "It is ours."

"Then come take it," the solider said, drawing a revolver.

The gunshot echoed off the nearby mesa, followed by the woman's scream.

"Well, I guess that means we're walking back to town."

Victoria could only nod in agreement. She was afraid of bringing her breakfast back up if she tried to speak.

In front of them, Victoria's horse lay in its stall. Its eyes were frozen in the same terrified look she had seen the night before, but rust-colored blood now covered the straw beneath it. Looking at its lifeless corpse, Victoria felt a stab of pity for the poor creature. It had carried her faithfully out to this place, and she had let it die.

"Why did they do this?" she finally asked.

"Just making themselves a point, I expect," Cora said. "Can't have things go too easy on us." The hunter frowned, looking around the barn. "Sure wish they'd left me some of Our Lady behind. Seems fitting I should bury her proper-like."

"Maybe she isn't here," Victoria said. Cora shot her a questioning look. "Think about it. If the Indian woman really was in the form of your horse, she must have been with us back in town when we started. That woman must have killed your horse before yesterday morning."

"I reckon so," Cora replied. "Guess that means I got to have words with them livery boys when we're done with all this. No-good fools just let squaw spooks make off with horses like that. It's a wonder they ain't got my horse killed before now."

Victoria stifled a groan as she contemplated the long day ahead of them. "Do you really think we can walk back?"

"As long as your pretty little self can keep up," Cora said. "Won't be something you're like to go doing again just for the fun of it all, but it can be done."

"Won't we die of thirst before we make it back?"

"Won't die of it, but won't be turning down a bucket of trough water by the end, neither. We've got our skins, and I reckon the folks here left us some canning bottles or some such. We ration our water out like we should, we'll do okay."

"Easy enough," Victoria said, rolling her eyes. "Shall we get on with this lovely parade, then?"

Cora nodded. "Daylight's wasting, and I sure ain't going to be caught around here come nightfall. They know this place too well, and we don't."

The two women returned to the house and set about gathering what few supplies they had. The fire had dried out their riding clothes well enough that they could be worn with only minor discomfort. Victoria had expressed her concern when they'd woke to find them still slightly damp, but Cora assured her that an hour in the desert sun would finish what the fire had started.

Filling their water skins from water pump's spigot, they shouldered their packs and set out into the rising sun. Victoria's pack weighed more than she liked, Cora having burdened her with jars of preserved vegetables they'd found in the cellar. She gritted her teeth and bore the extra weight, determined not to give Cora the satisfaction of hearing her complain. The hunter had given her the functioning revolver as well, but that was one burden Victoria no longer minded.

The rest of it grew heavier as the morning dragged on, and the blisters on her feet ached with every step. Her vision grew bleary. Above them, the sun climbed higher into the cloudless sky, making the horizon shimmer with false promises of water and shade. The water skin bounced against her side, teasing her with promises of cool relief for her parched throat.

When the sun neared its zenith, Cora called for a halt. The two women took shelter beneath an overhang that jutted out from a nearby cliff. It wasn't much shade, but any relief from the glaring sunlight was an improvement.

"No more than a few mouthfuls," Cora said. "It's got to last us awhile yet."

"How much farther, do you think?" Victoria asked.

Cora squinted at the horizon. "We ain't made much progress today. I'd say we got us at least another day, maybe two."

"You mean we will need to spend the night outdoors?"

"Of course," Cora said. "Took us a full day's ride to make it out here. You wasn't thinking you could make a horse's speed all on foot, was you?"

Victoria shook her head. It seemed silly to her now, but some part of her had still hoped they would make it back to Albuquerque before nightfall. "Will we be safe from them if we sleep out?"

The old hunter sighed. "Probably not, but ain't like we got a choice. We'll trade watches and keep the fire built up."

"What good will fire do?"

"Critters of the night usually don't take to it," Cora said. "That goes for regular critters and them that ain't so regular. Fought me a monster a few years back that was right scared of no more than a candle if you waved it in its face."

"Is that how you defeated it?" Victoria asked. "With fire?"

Cora shook her head. "Ain't what finally laid it out for good, but it played its part sure enough."

The hunter's face clouded over, and Victoria thought better of any more questions. Instead, she peered up at the sky, wishing a cloud or two might appear to offer some respite from the heat. The blue expanse stretched from one horizon to the other, unmarred by even the thinnest wisp of white.

Victoria took a small sip from her water skin. It already felt dangerously light. Replacing the stopper, she sloshed the water around inside to reassure herself that it would see her through this ordeal. The sun had evaporated what rainwater had lingered in pools that morning with frightening speed. Her concern grew as the puddles shrank, but she tried to reassure herself that they had brought enough.

All too soon, Cora stood. "Best get moving," she said, taking one final sip of water. "Don't want to waste any daylight if we can help it."

Victoria made sure the stopper was firmly wedged into the neck of her own bottle before standing. Tucking her uneaten hardtack into her satchel, she took a deep breath and nodded. The hunter returned the nod, then stepped back out into the unrelenting light.

Cora muttered under her breath as she held the match to the pile of sticks and twigs. Despite the heat of the day, the wood was reluctant to catch. She waited a few moments before throwing the match aside in disgust.

"Go find some leaves or something," she said.

Victoria sighed. Her arms and legs ached from the day's long march, and she wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the ground and let them rest. She looked around their small camp and shook her head. "I don't think I'd be able to find any out here. I haven't seen a tree since I arrived."

"Either you find us some leaves, or I'll start this fire using that pretty braid of yours," Cora replied.

Clutching at her hair, Victoria took a step backward. "You wouldn't dare."

"We got to have us a fire," Cora said, "and what we got here ain't going to take. Ain't the first time I've had to use hair to keep myself from freezing to death during the night. Leaves burn better, but I'll make do with what I got. Now, you want to move your rump, or should I take out my knife?"

Victoria threw up her arms, but she moved away from the camp to search for Cora's leaves. Above her, the sky had turned a deep blue. The sun had already set, but the western horizon still burned orange where it had slipped away. One or two stars glittered in celebration of the coming night. Only a few days ago, she might have stopped to admire them before going about her task. She'd always loved the stars, but she never knew they could be as bright and clear as they were in the American desert. It almost felt as though she could gather them in her palm if she pushed up on tiptoes and reached for them.

Surprisingly, it didn't take her long to fill her satchel with dark green leaves stripped from one of the larger bushes that stood near their camp. Cora nodded in approval when Victoria presented them, and within minutes, a small fire was snapping and hissing at their feet.

Victoria sat down beside it with a groan and worked her boots off, wincing with each tug. The blisters on her heels and the bottoms of her feet glared at her like dark red eyes. A few strips of white flesh still clung to some of them like grotesque eyelids.

"Best to let those air out for the night," Cora remarked.

Victoria blushed and tucked her feet under her, ignoring the renewed screeches of pain. "They aren't so bad."

"Sure they ain't. First few days in a new pair of boots are the hardest. You'll toughen up in a week or so. If not, the sawbones back in town can take your feet off for a decent price."

Victoria knew she wasn't serious, but the thought still made her shudder. She inched closer to the fire. Feeling the hunter's dark eyes on her, she reluctantly pulled her feet back out and clasped her hands around her knees.

A silence fell between the two women. Victoria gazed skyward, watching the stars grow brighter in a sky the color of a drowned man's lips. The sight brought to mind memories of the night her parents died, and she was suddenly fighting back tears. She kept her head upturned so Cora wouldn't see them glistening in the corners of her eyes. The same stars that had watched her parents die now looked down on her in disapproval. It had been almost two months since their deaths, and she had done nothing to avenge them.

"Yet," she murmured to them. "When the time comes, you will get your justice."

"That right there is a dangerous habit," Cora said.

Startled, Victoria snapped her head toward her. "What is?"

"Talking to them that's dead," she replied. "Don't go making it a habit, or you won't be able to tell that they're dead before too long."

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

"Sure, and I'm the Queen of England." The hard lines of Cora's face softened as the old hunter gazed into the fire. Her brows twitched, and her eyes flitted about the flames like moths. Confused by this change in her companion, Victoria held her tongue and watched. Somewhere in the distance, the cry of an animal echoed off the darkened cliffs. Others raised their voices in reply like a chorus of wailing banshees. Victoria hugged her knees tighter to her chest.

Across from her, Cora sighed. "I reckon I ought to let you in on what's going on here."

"What do you mean?" Victoria asked.

"Well," Cora said, "like it or not, you're caught up in this whole mess now. Before last night, I didn't figure things would get as complicated as all this. My plan was to ride out to that ranch, beat my answers out of that blue-eyed feller, and be done with it. Saw no need to tell you any more than that, neither."

The hunter paused to rummage through her satchel. Finally emerging with a piece of hardtack, she tore off a bite. Her eyes glittered in the firelight as she regarded the young woman, chewing thoughtfully. Victoria fidgeted under the hunter's gaze. Pebbles grated against the hardpacked earth as she shifted her weight. She tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. Still Cora watched and chewed.