Brave Beginnings (39 page)

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Authors: Ruth Ann Nordin

BOOK: Brave Beginnings
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When she reached the tree, she chose a branch
that was away from the shack and quickly tied the fabric there. She
released her breath and moved forward in time for Ernest to turn to
her. She stopped. Would he guess she’d been at the tree? It wasn’t
that far from her.

“You need the privy more than anyone I’ve
ever known,” Ernest called out. “Come along. Now that you’ve done
your business, we can get settled for the night.”

Her eyes grew wide as she clutched the
clothes to her chest. He didn’t intend to…? She couldn’t finish the
thought. It was too horrible to contemplate. She couldn’t be with
another man the way she’d been with Chogan. There was just no way
that was going to happen!

With an exasperated sigh that echoed through
the still night, Ernest marched over to her and took her by the
elbow. “I’m exhausted. I need rest before we head out
tomorrow.”

“But…” She gulped and dug her heels into the
ground.

“Why are you being so difficult?” he
demanded, a frown on his face. “That Injun is dead by now. You have
nothing to go back for.”

You’re wrong. He’s alive. I can feel it.
He’ll come for me, and when he does, you’ll be sorry.
Biting
her tongue on the reply, she swallowed and cleared her throat. “I
can’t…I just can’t be with you, in that way. It isn’t right.”

He paused for a moment in confusion and then
his eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh. Well, of course not. Not
as long as you have that savage little beast growing in your womb.
I know all about your pregnancy. Until that parasite is out of you
and in the ground, I’m not touching you that way.”

“You’re not harming my child,” she snapped
and pulled away from him.

“It’s not a child. Injuns and their ilk don’t
have souls.” He grabbed her arm and forced her forward. “This isn’t
up for discussion. You polluted your body with that Injun, and
we’ll have to deal with the consequence when the time comes. But
the time’s not tonight, so you can rest assured your soiled body
will be untouched by me.”

She dug her boot’s heel into the moist dirt.
“No! I will not go with you anymore!”

Dropping her clothes, she made a fist and hit
his arm, hoping he’d let her go. But he didn’t. He gave her a hard
slap across the face with his free hand. The impact made her head
spin so she stopped hitting him.

“The devil has had his way with you,” Ernest
hissed. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You needed to get out
of that godforsaken tribe.” He bent down to pick the clothes up and
renewed his grip on her arm. “This is best for you, Julia. You’re a
white woman, and it’s time to remember that.” He eyed her braids.
“We’ll start with these.” He threw the clothes back on the ground
and pulled on her hair.

“Stop it! You’re hurting me!” she cried as he
roughly loosened her braids.

“You will not wear your hair like this!” he
barked, his actions more aggressive. “You are a lady, Julia Milton.
It’s time you acted like one!” When he was done, he shoved her
away.

She stood still, rubbing her head which was
sore. She couldn’t decide which hurt more: her head or his words.
Chogan wasn’t an animal and her child wasn’t a beast!

His face stern, Ernest picked up the clothes
again and shoved them at her. He picked her up and carried her
toward the shack.

“Let me go,” she pleaded, unable to stop
herself from sobbing. “Please let me go home.”

“Your home is with me,” he replied, his tone
firm as he stared straight ahead.

“Sir?” someone called out.

He paused and turned to the man.

Remembering they weren’t alone, she looked at
the other person. Noah! In her shock, she stopped crying.

Ernest shifted her so that she was pressed up
against his chest and held out a free hand. “Give me the train
tickets.”

Noah glanced from her to Ernest, and she
sensed the hesitation in his gaze. Gathering her newfound strength,
she turned her head to get a better look at him. “Noah, please help
me. I don’t want to be here. Ernest killed Sarita and he left
Chogan for dead. I—”

“Enough!” Ernest yelled in her ear.

She winced.

“Give me the tickets,” Ernest ordered. “We
need to leave Jamestown before they figure out where I went! As it
is, the lovely trip to get my bride has delayed me a good day’s
worth of travel.”

His bride? Julia felt bile rise in her
throat.

Noah shook his head. “She doesn’t want to be
with you.”

“I’m not paying you to give me your opinion,”
Ernest replied. ‘I’m paying you to do what I say. Now hand me the
tickets!”

The silence that followed the command ran
thick with tension. She held her breath and prayed Noah would make
Ernest stop so that she could get away. But he didn’t. He handed
Ernest the tickets and stepped away from them.

“Noah!” She wiggled to get a better look at
the pale man who kept backing up. “Noah, you can’t leave me
here!”

Ernest set her down but held onto her arm so
she couldn’t get away from him. When she realized he was pulling a
gun from the holster under his suit jacket, she screamed and kicked
at him. Noah bolted for the horse as Ernest struggled to level the
gun while she fought against him. Ernest pulled the trigger and
Noah’s hat flew off his head.

Ernest shoved her away and steadied his gun
while Noah freed the horse from the post. She rushed forward and
rammed into Ernest, knocking him to the ground as she toppled over
him. He misfired again and cursed.

“Get away from me, Julia!” He snarled and hit
her with the butt of the gun.

She rolled away from him, the side of her
face throbbing in pain. She heard another gunshot ring through the
air but saw Noah heading off on his horse. Panting, she waited and
watched while Ernest shot another three rounds. She dug her fingers
into the ground and prayed Noah would make it. Maybe Noah would
tell someone where Ernest had taken her. Maybe. She recognized the
fear and sympathy in his eyes. There was hope.

Ernest grunted and turned back to her. He
picked up her clothes and yanked her to her feet. “That wasn’t
smart, Julia. I planned long and hard for this, and you’re liable
to have ruined everything.”

Good!
She wanted to scream it but
didn’t, figuring it was wiser to keep quiet.

He dragged her into the shack and pushed her
into a chair. Then he dumped the clothes on the wobbly table and
dug into his pocket to retrieve a match.

Her head hurt from where he’d hit her with
the gun and from where he pulled her hair. She touched the side of
her face and winced. No doubt there would be bruising close to her
eye. Running her fingers along her scalp, she massaged the area
until the pain ebbed. Finally, she pulled her hair back into a bun
and knotted it. When she put her hands down, she realized Ernest
was smiling at her.

“There you go,” he said with a nod. “You’re
starting to look like a white woman already.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, unable to
properly stomach the satisfied look in his eyes. The man was a
monster. She had to get away from him.

“You can sleep in here tonight,” he said as
he motioned to the small room to the side of the main one. “I had
Noah set out blankets to make you comfortable. I will sleep out
here.”

She didn’t move until he waved her forward.
Gulping, she walked forward and entered the room that was barely
big enough for a bed and a dresser. She took in the sagging roof
and brittle wood walls.

“It’s not ideal, I admit,” Ernest said in a
smooth tone.

She whirled around to face him, her arms
crossed—not because she was angry but because she felt trapped and
feared what he’d do next. Did he mean it when he said he wouldn’t
touch her? She was alone with him, and even if she fought him, she
couldn’t stop whatever he wanted to do to her.

Ernest shrugged and smiled. “No worries
though. Soon enough, you’ll have everything money can buy. I took
plenty.”

She stared at him, unsure of what to say, but
then he shut the door and she was left alone in the dark. The only
light in the room came from the small window. She went to it and
saw that Ernest had left the shack so he could tend to the horse.
Returning to the door, she tested it to make sure it was sturdy,
and it was. Good. It was a nice barrier between him and her.

With a long sigh, she slid to the floor,
suddenly realizing it was made of dirt. The ground. She was sitting
on the ground. Too exhausted to care, she crawled over to the
blankets and wrapped one around her. In a few minutes, maybe she
would know what to do next.

 

***

 

Chogan dreamt of things that made his blood
turn cold. Ernest was with Julia, and he was forcing her skirt up.
The dream came in snippets with little coherency, but Chogan knew
Ernest was raping her and she cried out for Chogan to stop him.

Chogan’s eyes flew open. Darkness hovered
over him, and he winced as he became aware of a campfire nearby.
Julia. I have to get to her.
Despite the pain in his
shoulder and chest, he rolled onto his side and pulled himself to
his feet. The world around him swayed and he fell. He landed on his
hands and knees, gasping as the sharp pain pierced his wounds.
Pressing one hand to the bandage over his ribs, he got back to his
feet and stumbled forward.

The land around him shifted, but he
maintained enough balance to find a horse resting by a tree. He
swallowed, his throat dry and heart racing. He knew he was in no
shape to ride a horse, but he had to get to Julia. And when he did,
he’d kill Ernest with his bare hands for what he was doing to
her.

Panting, Chogan untied the horse and stumbled
against the animal that snorted and shifted away from him. He
grabbed onto the mane and waited until everything stopped spinning
around him. Julia left clues. All he had to do was find the
petticoat trail and he’d find her. He had no idea how far he’d
gotten, but she wasn’t anywhere nearby and he had to get to her
before Ernest did any more damage.

Gripping the horse’s mane, Chogan strained to
pull himself up onto the animal. As soon as the horse moved
forward, Chogan lost his balance and fell to the ground. No. He
winced and reached for the horse. His hand wrapped around the
animal’s leg. Good. It didn’t run off. He blinked back the sweat
that dripped into his eyes and tried to stand up, but someone
grabbed him from behind and swore.

“I can’t believe it,” the man muttered.

Chogan recognized Gary’s voice, though it
seemed distorted. He attempted to get away from Gary as Gary lugged
him back to the campfire, but the stars and moon swam in circles
above him and before he knew it, everything went black.

 

Gary grunted as he dragged Chogan back to the
bedroll.

“Let me help!” someone called out.

Gary glanced at the man who hurried over to
him. “He’s heavy,” Gary warned, too grateful for the help to wonder
who this stranger was. “He won’t stay still, but he needs to heal.
He’s been shot.”

“Got any rope?” the stranger called out to
someone else.

Gary peered into the darkness and saw Citlali
gathering a blanket full of items. “What are you doing here? And
who are you?” he asked the stranger.

The stranger checked Chogan’s wounds as he
answered, “I’m Detective Conrad Williams, and I’ve been sent to
watch Ernest Freeman.”

“Ernest? Why?” Of all things, this was the
last thing Gary expected.

Citlali knelt by them and unraveled the
blanket.

Conrad sighed. “Bullet wounds.” He looked up
at Gary. “You got the bullets out?”

“Yes,” Gary replied. “I sewed him up too.
Will you tell me what Ernest has to do with this?”

Conrad held his hand to Citlali. “I need
something to soak up this fresh blood. We’ll get new bandages and
something to help with the fever. The poor man is burning up.”

Gary forced aside his rising frustration so
Citlali could help Conrad tend to Chogan’s wounds. “Will you please
tell me what’s going on?”

Conrad removed the old bandages and mopped up
the blood seeping from the stitches Gary had carefully sewn earlier
that day. “Did you know Ernest Freeman was married when he lived in
Fargo?”

Gary’s eyes grew wide. “No.”

“He was. The woman he married looked almost
like your sister. I didn’t see the resemblance at first. Julia
seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until Ernest went missing from
Bismarck and I found a picture of his first wife in the cellar that
the pieces fit. Ernest is obsessed with your sister.”

“But his parents never mentioned that he had
a wife. Julia would have told me if they did,” Gary said.

Conrad shrugged. “That I can’t explain. Maybe
Ernest’s story of his wife running off and leaving him for another
man gave them reason to not mention it to anyone. I haven’t
contacted his parents in case I aroused Ernest’s suspicions to find
out what they know. You can be sure I’ll look into it after Ernest
is taken care of.”

Citlali put some alcohol onto a rag and
handed the rag to Conrad.

Conrad placed the rag on the wounds to clean
them off. “Ernest ran off with a large sum of money and headed out
this way. My guess is he had an accomplice.”

“Sarita?” Gary glanced at Citlali.

“She was one,” Citlali replied.

“And the other?” Gary asked Conrad.

Conrad shrugged. “That’s hard to say. I
suspect the sheriff and reporters will handle that part. My job is
to find Ernest. How well do you know him?”

“I don’t. Not really,” Gary said. “He courted
my sister when I was a kid.”

“Well, I need to find him, and the sooner,
the better.” Conrad handed the rag back to Citlali so he could
place fresh bandages on Chogan. “It’s possible that Ernest will
kill Julia if she doesn’t play his game. That’s what happened to
his wife. Her father said Ernest was particular about the way she
styled her hair and what she wore and how she decorated the house.
Everything had to be done a certain way or he’d get upset. One day,
he snapped and killed her. We never found the body, but I finally
got the murder weapon.”

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