Savage Hero Read online

  “Yes, it did,” Mary Beth said. She wiped tears from her eyes with her free hand as she held the knife at her side with the other. She had never had the need to defend herself before coming to this wilderness. She was beginning to feel foreign to herself in many ways, because her life had taken such a different turn.

  From now on, it would be different, for she would be living among a different people, learning their ways, being a chief’s wife. It all seemed like a dream.

  The best part of that dream was Brave Wolf.

  She rushed into telling the colonel what had happened and described her assailant as best she could. She thanked the good Lord that the moon had lit the cabin, or she would never have seen her assailant.

  “His voice was filled with such loathing,” she said, her own voice breaking.

  “Let me see your throat,” Colonel Downing said, stepping closer and holding the lamp so that he could see her better.

  His eyes narrowed angrily when he saw the red imprint of the man’s hand there. The skin was already bruising.

  “The damn idiot,” he cursed. “The cowardly sonofabitch. What was he thinking?”

  “He was not thinking, he was doing,” Mary Beth said as the colonel took her gently by the arm and led her into the living quarters of the cabin. “He wanted to kill me. If I hadn’t thought fast enough and hurt him where no man wants to be hurt, then grabbed his knife from its sheath, I would even now be dead.”

  “Thank God you were able to react so effectively during such an assault,” Colonel Downing said, setting the lamp on a table.

  Mary Beth looked slowly around herself at the grandeur of the room. The walls provided a stunning backdrop for a Regency mirror over the mantel and a gilt-and-bronze chandelier.

  Most striking of all was the elaborate French wallpaper and the carved side chairs upholstered in gilded leather.

  Large neoclassical friezes and chunky molding added height to the windows, making Mary Beth momentarily forget that this was a cabin. The interior could have graced a mansion in France or England.

  She was suddenly certain that a woman had lived here, even though the rules forbade it. There were lacy doilies on the arms and backs of the plushly upholstered chairs. Pretty, delicately painted ceramic figurines sat on tables and shelves.

  Colonel Downing nodded toward one of the most beautiful of the overstuffed chairs. “Sit,” he said. “I’ll make some tea after I build up the fire. Let’s get you warmed through and through, and then I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about what happened to you tonight.”

  Relieved that he was at this moment showing his honorable side, Mary Beth sighed as she eased down into the chair.

  “Let me have the knife,” Colonel Downing said, gently taking it from her hand. He placed it on the table beside the lamp, then after throwing a log on the flames, left Mary Beth alone as he went to the kitchen.

  While she waited, the terrible attack came back to her, making her wince as she reached up and touched her neck. It was painful to the touch. How lucky she was to have gotten the better of the man. Surely only seconds had remained of her life!

  She gazed into the flames and thought then of Brave Wolf. Oh, how she wished she was there with him now.

  How she wished all of this terrible ordeal was behind her and David was with her again!

  She knew that her son and the man she loved would become fast friends. David would look to Brave Wolf as a father figure, and Brave Wolf would take David under his wing, proud to call the young man his son.

  “He will one day be called a warrior, too,” Mary Beth found herself whispering as she envisioned David grown and muscled, riding a horse alongside the Crow warriors his same age.

  There would be such camaraderie between her son and the others. She knew that he would be proud to say he was one with them!

  “Here we are,” Colonel Downing said as he came into the room carrying a tray on which sat a silver teapot and two cups and saucers. “This should hit the spot, don’t you think?”

  “I hope so,” Mary Beth said. Trying to respond to his kindness, she smiled up at him.

  He placed the tray on the table next to Mary Beth, then poured tea into the cups. “I’m going to have a cup, myself,” he said, smiling at her, then frowning. “I might need it more than you, knowing what I soon must do.”

  She nodded a thank-you to him as he handed her the tea. The cup rattled against the saucer, and she realized her hands were trembling so much she could not steady them.

  He poured himself a cup, then sat down across from Mary Beth in a matching chair.

  The pleasant warmth of the tea eased Mary Beth’s achy throat. She sipped it slowly. The colonel did likewise, looking at her in a studious fashion that was beginning to unnerve her.

  She felt as though she were on display. More disturbing, she saw something in his eyes that she had seen countless times before . . . an interest men felt when they were attracted to a woman.

  “Sir, you heard the assailant’s description,” she murmured, trying to distract him. “Do you recognize it?”

  “Yes, I’m positive I know who it is,” Colonel Downing said, setting his tea aside. “It’s Blackjack Tom.”

  “Blackjack Tom?” Mary Beth said, her eyes widening.

  “Of course that is not his true name,” Colonel Downing said, relaxing into the deep cushions of the chair. “His name is Lieutenant Thomas Sloan. He gets his nickname from his love of playing blackjack.”

  He paused, placed his fingertips together before him, and frowned. “Yep, he’s a gambling man, but it seems he took one gamble too many tonight. His luck has just run out.”

  “Then you are going to arrest him?” Mary Beth asked, leaning forward. “You . . . are . . . going to do it tonight, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll escort you safely to your cabin, and then I’ll go and do my duty as colonel,” he said tightly. “But first, young lady, we’ve got to get you into some different clothes. Those clothes probably caused Thomas to hate you the first time he laid eyes on you. When he looked at you, he saw an Indian squaw, not a white lady.”

  “But why would seeing me as an Indian . . . maiden . . . cause him to be that angry?” she murmured.

  “I can’t speak for him or look into his mind and know exactly what he was thinking, but I think I know something else that might have set him off,” Colonel Downing said. He rested his hands on his knees as he continued gazing at Mary Beth. “You see, the rules here at Fort Henry weren’t always as strict as they are now. Before an ambush of a wagon of wives one day, wives and children were allowed to live on the base. You see, Thomas’s wife perished on the day of the Indian ambush.” He lowered his eyes and cleared his throat.

  He looked slowly up at Mary Beth. “So did mine,” he said thickly. “So did these soldiers who were escorting the women on the outing.”

  “Your . . . wife . . . ?” Mary Beth gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You are one of a very few who have escaped death after being attacked by these savages,” Colonel Downing said.

  “For a while I thought I would die,” Mary Beth gulped out. “Had it not been for Chief Brave Wolf, I would be dead.”

  She noticed that the mention of Brave Wolf caused Downing to frown darkly. “You do not seem to think highly of Brave Wolf,” she said guardedly. “Why is that? He has shown me nothing but kindness.”

  “Ma’am, after my wife was murdered by savages, I suspected every damn Indian that lived in the area,” he said tightly. “Even though I had always been told that Chief Brave Wolf was peaceful toward whites, I could not rest until I checked him out personally. I went to his village. We clashed immediately.”

  “How?” Mary Beth gasped. “Was there a fight?”

  “Not the kind you mean,” he said. “It was instant dislike between us. Even though I came away knowing he was innocent of the crime, I still did not like the man. He is, and always will be, a savage just like all of the others.”

  “Was i
t something he said that riled you so much?” Mary Beth persisted, for she could not see how anyone could dislike Brave Wolf.

  “Ma’am, sometimes a person doesn’t have to have any reason for disliking someone,” he said flatly. “It’s just something that flows between them. I don’t like Brave Wolf. He doesn’t like me.”

  She understood why Brave Wolf had hesitated to bring her to Fort Henry. He not only didn’t like this colonel, he didn’t trust him.

  “I see,” was all that she replied.

  “As for Blackjack Tom,” he said. “When he saw you dressed like the very people he loathes, he must’ve snapped.”

  His eyes roamed slowly over her again. “And as for that dress,” he said. “We’d best do something about it right now. We don’t want you as a reminder of the killing of innocent women every time my men look at you.”

  She ran her hands slowly down the skirt of the doeskin dress. She had fallen in love with this dress the moment it had been given to her. Yet she could see how it represented all the wrong things to the soldiers.

  “Come into my bedroom with me,” Colonel Downing said, reaching a hand out for Mary Beth. “I’ve kept my wife’s personal belongings in a trunk. She had many beautiful dresses. Earlier, when I mentioned your needing a dress, and said there were none here at the fort, I did not think I could lend you one of my wife’s dresses, but things have changed. It has been proven how my men feel about you, so I’d best forget my own feelings for the time being. And I don’t believe my wife would mind if you wore one of her dresses, especially if it means protecting you from harm.”

  Although Mary Beth knew that she didn’t plan to stay at the fort after David was found, she saw no choice but to accept the dress. Still, she didn’t relish the thought of accompanying this man into his bedroom.

  What if his intentions were illicit? What if he was just pretending to be a friend when all along he wanted what any lonely man wants from a woman?

  “Sir, I’ll wait here while you get the dress,” Mary Beth said, standing her ground.

  “You don’t trust me?” he said. Then he chuckled. “Don’t guess I’d blame you much, especially after what you’ve just been through at the hands of a stranger.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he said, walking from the room.

  Mary Beth looked around the room again, at all the lovely trinkets that must have been acquired by his wife. They were pretty things only a woman would desire. Back in Kentucky, her trinkets were simple, yet loved no less than this lady’s possessions.

  “Here we are,” Colonel Downing said, carrying a dress across his outstretched arm as though it were a delicate treasure. “My wife was a tiny thing like you. I’m sure the dress will fit well enough.”

  Mary Beth nodded and took the dress, then winced when she caught the smell of perfume on it. When she wore it, she would smell like the colonel’s wife.

  “I’m not sure . . .” she said, trying to hand the dress back to him.

  “As I see it, you don’t have any choice,” he said, his eyes suddenly cold. Perhaps he was angry that she did not want to wear a dress his wife had adored.

  “Come now,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll escort you safely to the cabin and then go and arrest Blackjack Tom. He’s had it coming for some time. He’s always in some kind of trouble or another, usually gambling. He’s been accused of cheating more than once.”

  As he turned to open the door, Mary Beth looked quickly at the knife that he had placed on the table. When he wasn’t looking, she grabbed it, then slid it among the folds of the dress.

  When he turned and again gestured toward the door with a hand, she smiled and went past him, then walked with him across the courtyard toward her cabin.

  She looked cautiously from side to side. Could Blackjack Tom be hiding somewhere nearby?

  She followed the colonel, then stepped into the cabin as he opened the door for her.

  “I’m sorry there are no locks on the door,” he said. “But you can feel safe enough. The bastard’ll be locked away real soon.”

  “Thank you for your kindness,” she murmured.

  He gave her a strange, lopsided smile, then walked away.

  She hurried inside the cabin, closed the door, then leaned her back against it. Her heart was throbbing. What had made her agree to stay in a place where she knew she was in danger? For no matter what the colonel said, she was at risk.

  She didn’t know what to do. Leave? Or stay?

  Disturbed by the perfume wafting from the dress, she dropped it to the floor.

  Then knowing the colonel would be insulted if he saw the dress on the floor when he returned, she grabbed it quickly up again. For now, he was her only ally at the fort. She must make certain she didn’t lose his support, strained as it was.

  Sighing, she draped the dress over the back of a chair. She lit a kerosene lamp and slowly unbraided her hair.

  When it was hanging long and loose over her shoulders, she sighed again. Just as she was ready to climb onto the bed, she was startled by a knock at the door. She went cold inside as she stared at it.

  “Don’t be frightened,” Colonel Downing said through the door. “It is I. It’s Colonel Downing.”

  Heaving a sigh of relief, yet wondering what would bring him back to the cabin so quickly, she went to the door and cautiously opened it.

  The moonlight revealed his dark frown.

  “I came to tell you that Blackjack Tom can’t be arrested,” he said.

  “Why not?” Mary Beth asked, her eyes searching his. “Have you changed your mind? Do you no longer see him as guilty? Look at my throat. He did this. I tell you . . . he did this to me.”

  “Yes, I believe you,” Colonel Downing said heavily.

  “Then why didn’t you arrest him?” Mary Beth demanded.

  “Because he’s gone,” Colonel Downing said. “He’s nowhere to be found. I assume he expected you to tell what happened.”

  “Gone?” Mary Beth repeated, suddenly feeling icy cold all over. “But what about your sentries? Surely they saw him leave the fort.”

  “Mary Beth, he was tonight’s sentry,” he explained softly.

  Now she recalled the absence of a sentry when she had needed someone to come to her rescue.

  The sentry was Blackjack Tom!

  Now she felt trapped. She couldn’t flee into the night to go to Brave Wolf because that evil man could be out there anywhere, just waiting for the opportunity to finish what he had started tonight.

  Suddenly she was aware that many soldiers were leaving their barracks, dressed and carrying firearms.

  She questioned the colonel with her eyes.

  “I’m sending men out to look for Thomas,” he said, reaching a gentle hand to her arm. “I will post a guard outside your door. Go to bed. You can feel safe enough.”

  She nodded, turned, and went back inside the cabin, yet she didn’t feel at all safe knowing that a soldier would be standing outside the cabin. What if that soldier had the same dark feelings about her as Blackjack Tom had had?

  And . . . what about the window at the back of the cabin? Someone could break the glass and climb inside.

  Truly feeling trapped, and so frightened that her knees were trembling, she didn’t go to bed. Instead she positioned the chair so that it faced the window and sat down and watched . . . and waited.

  She eyed the knife that she had placed on the table. She scurried to it and grabbed it.

  Then she eyed the lamp and the flame burning in it. She felt much safer with the fire in the lamp blown out. She had the light of the moon to help her see whoever might come to the window.

  But no one could see her.

  She would be sitting in the dark, ready to kill, if necessary!

  “Brave Wolf, if you only knew what I’m going through. . . .” she whispered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For in my mind, of all mankind,

  I love but you alone.

  —An
onymous

  Brave Wolf rode proudly on his new steed, the morning sun gleaming off Midnight’s black coat. He looked over his shoulder at the others who rode with him. He saw their eyes moving constantly as they prepared themselves for anything that might happen.

  But today their eyes searched mainly for a child who had been stolen by renegades.

  Brave Wolf rode with the warriors he had assigned to search for David. He had needed something to keep his mind off Mary Beth, especially since she was with a man Brave Wolf did not like, and most definitely did not trust.

  The day Colonel Downing had come to the village, Brave Wolf had been kind enough to invite him into his council house. He had even invited the white pony soldier to share a smoke with him since Brave Wolf always saw the importance of keeping the soldier leaders as allies instead of enemies. Nonetheless he had soon felt deep dislike for Colonel Downing.

  Whenever the colonel had talked to Brave Wolf, it was with an air of superiority, as though the white man held himself above even a mighty Crow chief.

  If the white man had even hinted that he suspected Brave Wolf or his warriors of killing his wife and those who had been with her, Brave Wolf would have ordered him from his lodge.

  But as it was, it was just dislike that came between them.

  Brave Wolf had not gone into council again with the colonel. He kept his distance from him and was glad that the colonel kept away from the Whistling Water Clan of Crow.

  But knowing that Mary Beth was with the pony soldiers under this colonel’s command even now, and had been put in the position of seeking his help, made Brave Wolf uneasy. He knew that the colonel had lost his wife in that ambush and had not taken another.

  He also knew that no women resided at Fort Henry any longer and that Mary Beth was the only one there. If the white pony soldiers were lonely, would they forget their respect for a lone woman and try to take advantage of her?

  He knew of Mary Beth’s courage, but would it be strong enough to fend off a possible attempted rape in the middle of the night when the world was quiet and dark and only those with evil on their minds roamed?