Hunkering down into the tall reed-like
grasses, Arie dared not even breathe too loud, lest she be heard. If someone
heard her, she would no doubt be found and then dragged back to that wretched
place; that place used to be her home. Her beloved home, with walls that used
to echo with her parents laughter, mingling with soft-spoken words and an
abundance of love, was now full of masculine voices that plotted and schemed.
Her light honey colored eyes glared not at the house but rather, at the men
inside of the house.
A twig snapped and Arie caught her
breath. The sound came from the left, a few feet from the old oak tree that she
used to read under, getting lost in the stories. It was a good hundred yards
from the house. Tension pitted in her stomach. Was there someone coming after
her already? She knew shouldn’t have stopped after turning her ankle on that
stupid stick but the pain was excruciating and unexpected, so stop she did.
Slowly, she lifted her head up and
peered through the grasses. There was a man, one she didn’t ever get the privilege of meeting, who was walking
towards the wide, colonial style house. The man looked pleasant enough, but he also
looked barely old enough to shave. Didn’t look like much of a threat either. He
was short, not much taller than Arie, who was five foot five inches tall.
Bright red hair curled at the neck of his jacket. He was dressed in a suit,
typical of any man who would come courting.
Arie smiled to herself. Well he
certainly wouldn’t be courting her.
As he stopped to wipe his shoe, Arie,
as quietly as she could, made her retreat. Adrenaline kicked in and any
thoughts about the pain in her ankle vanished. The moccasins on her feet made
her steps whisper-light as she wove her way through a maze of trees and the pants
she had found helped her move faster than a dress would. The setting sun cast a
golden hue on her surroundings and the shadows helped to conceal her agile
body. She felt free and she flew.
When the sun had finally set, the heat
vanished and coolness took its place. Arie’s ankle had started to throb and the
pain doubled. Biting her lip against the pain, she found by the grace of God
the old shack that had long been abandoned. Hidden by a group of large, full
pine trees, it was the perfect hiding spot. Arie had been prepping it for a
month now, bringing out supplies she would need; extra food, a canteen,
matches, a small pistol that her father had given her, extra clothing. No
dresses though.
Finding a packet of laudanum, a clean
glass, and using some water from her canteen, she mixed it together and drank
it quickly. She despised the bitter tasting stuff but her ankle was putting up
a good fight. The shack was cool but she didn’t want to light a fire at the
risk of being found so she grabbed a blanket she had stowed. Propping her foot
up on the old table, she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible in a
wooden chair.
Thoughts of her parents ran through her
mind as she waited for sleep to overtake her. Would they approve of what she
was doing? Surely they would. They wouldn’t want her to be married off to some
man who just wanted to marry her for his own benefit. Not to mention the
benefit of Alton Miles. Her “benefactor”. A chill ran through Arie at the
thought of the man. Short and round, he had a face that deceived; one that
looked pleasant and nice but was really conniving and mean-spirited. Was he
looking for her now?
“Where is she?” Alton ground out, one
word at a time. Pinching the bridge of his bulbous nose, he took a deep breath
in and closed his eyes. “Why weren’t you watching her?”
One of two men in his office jumped as
the other elbowed him. Both were men raised in a country where going to school
hadn’t ever been an option. The one who jumped was the taller and brightest of
the two, though that wasn’t saying much. “We was, sir. Just like you told us.
Except well, we both had to go to the outhouse on account of the cook’s dinner
and-“
“Enough!” Alton snapped, all patience
draining. “Why didn’t you trail her?”
“Well, sir,” the other one, who was
dressed in ratty coveralls and a white shirt, “beings how she’s an Indian, we
didn’t think we could track her.”
“She’s only a fourth Native American!”
Alton yelled and stood up, slapping both palms on the desk. “You two should be
able to track her like you would a deer you shot. Find her, find her now!”
Now Alton would have to explain to his
nephew, young Maxwell, why he wouldn’t be meeting the lovely Arielah White,
daughter of a man who had owned vast amounts of land in Kansas and richest
doctor in the area. A daughter who now owned that land and money which Alton
desperately wanted. The pieces of his plan were coming together to form a
grand, glorious picture but now he would have to search for that difficult
missing piece. One that would undoubtedly, now that she was on the run, be
challenging to find.
Chapter One
“Why
of all places did Dad have to send me here?” Alex mumbled out loud to himself. He
thought it was a waste of time, especially since he could be more useful at
home, helping to fix the barn which was obliterated after that nasty storm that
came in a couple nights ago. Theo, his
horse, side stepped away from a jagged, fallen tree trunk, jostling his left
arm. A twinge of pain caught him off guard and reminded him why he was out
looking for cows instead of back at home. His arm was broken after a short
scuffle with a couple of young men, in their teens, who had a little too much
fun at the saloon and were causing some mischief, breaking windows here and
there.
Alex smirked. It had been a while since
he was in a fight but he had a good four inches on the boys and a bit more
muscle as well. At six foot four and muscle bred from working on a ranch since
he could walk, Alex could handle himself quite well for being twenty-five. Being
pulled off the boardwalk by the hooligans, and landing on his arm in the midst
of it, was what caused the damage. That and the gun that one of the young men
had pulled out. It discharged right into Alex’s shoulder. The two guys were
knocked out from the fall and with the help of his deputy, they dragged the men
to jail to sleep it off.
“Alex, you need to go get your arm
looked at,” Deputy Miles said as he leaned his wooden chair back on two legs
with his feet on the desk. “I bet that doesn’t feel too good.”
Alex sighed and stood up. “Well I
hadn’t really noticed until you said something. I’ll be back.” All the
adrenaline pumping through his system had blocked out the pain and now it was
showing itself with a vengeance. His whole left arm felt like it was on fire.
When he showed up at Doctor Banner’s
house, the Doc shook his head. “What did you get into now, Alex?”
Alex chuckled and followed the old man
back into the office. It had been a long-standing phrase the Doc said to Alex
over the years. Alex had made many, many trips to see him from the first time
he sprained an ankle when he was seven up to now. Stitches, bad sprains, and
broken bones had made them more than acquaintances; Doc was more like an uncle
to him, a trusted mentor and advisor. The bullet from the Colt .45 went
straight through his shoulder, piercing only flesh and muscle. Doc cleaned that
up and gave him directions on how to take care of it. Then Doc set the bone in
Alex’s forearm, splinted it, and told him to take it easy. Which Alex had no
intention of doing.
The marshal of Reno county had other
ideas; ideas that sided with Doc’s. He put Alex on leave for a few weeks until
his arm and shoulder were completely healed. Grudgingly, he took his leave. His
parents needed help out at the ranch anyway since his younger brother and his
wife were expecting a baby anytime soon. God’s good timing, Alex supposed. So
he locked up his place right outside of town and traveled the two miles to his
parents’ place.
A soft whimper brought Alex’s mind back
to the present. He dismounted and tied Theo to a tree. The trees were thick in
this area, full of leaves that would soon be falling. Because there wasn’t a
breeze however, it was quiet in the midst of them. He stopped walking around
and waited to see if he would hear it again. It definitely didn’t sound like an
animal. It was a person without a doubt.
Once more it sounded, stronger this
time, pitched high. He scanned the area but didn’t see any tracks or signs of a
person. No place where a fire would have been nor were there footprints in the
ground. He walked a few paces towards the sound and then he remembered the old
lean-to fort he made when he was a kid. The trees the led to the lean-to still
bore the scar in the shape of the letter “A”. The letter was a good deal higher
than it used to be, however.
The condition of it was something Alex
worried about when he was a few feet away. It was hidden in an alcove of
bushes. Those bushes now were a little more thin needle wise than they used to
be. The lean-to was comprised of two thick notched branches holding up a longer
equally thick branch with as many sticks leaning against it at an angle.
Surprisingly, it had held up well. The
whimper sounded again and he squinted to see if a person was in there. The sun
was facing him so the inside of the lean-to was in shadow. Cautiously, he took
the last few steps toward the lean-to. Towards the back, lay a person wrapped
in a dark muslin blanket. He squatted down on his haunches, letting a forearm
rest on his thigh, and let his eyes adjust to the shadow. He tipped his black
Stetson back a little. Whoever the person was, they weren’t very big. Small,
really.
Deciding he needed more light, he went
out and removed some of the branches to let some sun filter through but not so
much that it would be overwhelming to whoever it was. He did it quietly as
possible so he wouldn’t disturb the person either.
Wiping his hand on his pants, he went
back around and squatted down, then almost fell over. He couldn’t believe what
his eyes saw. The light filtered through the slats to reveal a woman. A delicate ankle was sticking out from the
blanket that was swollen maybe three times the size of the other one. Her dark
hair was matted and dirty, with pieces of grass in it. He was reaching out to
wipe some hair from her face when she whimpered again, her face scrunching up
in pain.
The woman needed help, but how was he
going to get her home?
Alex glared at his arm and then looked
back at the woman. Maybe if he woke her up somehow? Standing up he walked over
to Theo and grabbed his canteen from the saddle bag. Moving back over to the
woman, he pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket and doused a section of
it with water. As carefully and gently as possible, he wiped it over her
forehead, leaving a clean trail of skin in its wake.
Unfolding it and moving to a clean part
of the handkerchief, he doused it again. But when he began to wipe her forehead,
her eyes opened and she jerked up. Wide eyes the prettiest shade of brown
regarded him for the briefest moment, unsure of what to think of him. Then as
if the strength she had mustered to sit up had suddenly gone, she started to
fall back down. He caught her with his
good arm before she hit the ground.
Well there goes that notion of her
waking up and walking on her own.
Now what?
Alex would have to carry her. Sliding
his arms underneath her, he adjusted her in a way that her head would be laying
on his chest and her legs were over his good arm. Bracing himself, he stood up
and prayed for God to help him make it to his horse. As he walked to Theo. The
pain was there in his arm but bearable and he pushed all thoughts of that off
to the side, focusing solely on getting this woman some help.
The gentle swaying of being carried
woke Arie up. That, along with a pounding head and foot.
