Captive Heart (14 page)

“All right, then,” Thayne said. “What
will
you do when you are back in Boston someday?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Truthfully she could not ever imagine herself fitting in at home again—not after her adventures of the past three weeks. “I don’t know what I will do with my life.” Her eyes met his. “But I do know I will look back on this afternoon and treasure it. Thank you, Thayne.”

“My pleasure, Emma.”

Chapter 20

Emma held on as the wagon crested a hill—the last, Thayne assured her, before they arrived. Rows of Lakota lodges spread out before them, dotting the landscape as far as she could see. Her breath caught.

“How many Indians live here?” she asked in a quavering voice.

Thayne held the reins in one hand and stroked his chin with the other. “If I remember right—I think it’s about eight or nine hundred. Those here at the Touch the Clouds Agency were the last to come in from their places in the Hills.”

Emma bit her lip. “Does that mean they were the wildest?”

“Suppose you could say that,” Thayne said casually. “Though I don’t see it quite that way.”

Looking over at him, she saw he was leaning back against the seat, a relaxed smile on his face. The road was much better this close to the agency, and Thayne seemed in a particularly good mood this morning.
He’s happy,
she realized.
Glad he’s almost through with me and will soon get back whatever it is the Indians took from him.

“Just how
do
you see it?” she demanded, anger suddenly overcoming even her fear.

Thayne turned to her in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

She looked away, as much ashamed of her quick temper as she was of the tears pricking the back of her eyes. For the second time in as many days, she felt on the verge of breaking down. But today, it was for entirely different reasons.

Forcing herself to breathe slowly and praying her heart would calm, Emma tried to forget about the Indians for a minute and instead remember Thayne’s kindness the previous day. She hadn’t imagined the dress she was wearing or the fun they’d had swimming or their conversation late into the evening. He’d kept her safe and shown her kindness these many days, and until she fully understood the situation, she owed him at least civility in return.

Turning in the seat, she looked at him. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “That you expect me to stay with people so different from me—people I’ve heard only the worst of—is terrifying. Please,” she implored, taking her eyes from him and looking out toward the encampment. “Help me understand why we’re here and who these people are.”

“These Lakota are my friends. They are good people, people concerned about their families and survival.” Thayne leaned forward, capturing the reins with both hands again.

“How did you come to know them?” Emmalyne asked. She gathered her shawl around her. Despite the afternoon sun beating down on them, the air was much cooler in the Hills than it had been down on the prairie.

“About two years back, near six months after I’d started up my mine near Deadwood, there was a skirmish—one of many, mind you—between some soldiers from Fort Kearny and one of the Lakota camps. The Lakota, led by a man named Crazy Horse, had been leading raids on the mining camps, killing as many miners as they could in the process. Crazy Horse and the other leaders knew they needed to get the white men out of the Hills before it became too late.”

“Too late for what? Did they attack you?” Emma asked.

“Too late to keep the white men from covering the Hills. And no, they didn’t attack me. At the time, I was wrapped up in the mine and pretty much ignorant of everything else, including the Indians and their plight. I could’ve been killed back then and deservedly so.”

“What?”
Emmalyne exclaimed.

Thayne held up a hand. “Let me finish. I’ll try to make sense.”

She nodded and leaned back in her seat, determined to understand his tale.

“The soldiers from Fort Kearny came looking for some Indians—
any
Indians—to kill. That was the government’s way to teach the natives a lesson that murdering miners was not going to be tolerated.” A bitter edge crept into Thayne’s voice as he spoke. “The soldiers came upon a Lakota camp when almost all the men were away hunting.”

“What happened?” Emma asked when Thayne had been silent at least a full minute.

He looked over at her. “What do you think?”

She didn’t answer but kept her eyes trained on the lodges, growing closer by the minute.

“Kearny’s men swept in there with their rifles and killed everyone, everything that moved—women, children, babies, horses, dogs. It was nearly a complete slaughter.”

“
Nearly?
”

“A young boy about three years of age was shot in the stomach. His older brother found him and was trying to load him on a drag pole when I discovered the two of them.” Thayne led the horses to the side of the road, gradually slowing them until the wagon came to a stop. He turned to face Emma.

“The older boy was maybe seven or eight and so scared out of his mind that he tried to stab me with his knife when we saw each other. I grabbed him, tied him up good, and went to work helping his brother.”

“What did you do?” She searched Thayne’s eyes and was startled when the pain she saw there left, replaced by a brief smile.

“I did what Kendrichs have been doing for generations,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice. “The right herbs, the right place, the right hands, can heal.”

“And then?” Emma prompted, caught up in his fascinating story. It was not difficult to picture Thayne in these Hills, kneeling over a small boy, working a miracle. Hadn’t he already worked several miracles on her behalf?

“The little one got better. I fed the big one and kept an eye on him. Eventually, we came to an understanding that he was to lead me to more of his people, and I would follow him, carrying his brother.”

“So you brought the boys back and became friends with the Lakota?”

“Didn’t work out quite like that,” Thayne said. “I brought the boys back, all right, but their father shot an arrow through my leg by way of greeting.”

Emma gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. “They shot—”

“Then their uncle stabbed me. Would’ve finished me off except the older boy rushed ahead and apparently spoke on my behalf, told how I’d saved his brother.”

“They let you go?”

Again, Thayne shook his head. “Couldn’t really do that on account of the arrow was in deep, and I was bleeding to death pretty fast. Fortunately, the Lakota have a tradition of healing too. I stayed with them for over a month while I got my strength back.”

“My goodness,” Emma exclaimed. She leaned back in her seat, and Thayne clicked the reins. The horses pulled, and the wagon rolled forward again.

“Turns out, aside from being a healer, I had quite a lot in common with the Lakota.”

“Oh?” Emma said.

He nodded. “My ancestors were driven from their homes in the Highlands of Scotland. Those not killed were stripped of their lands, their livestock—even their manner of dress was forbidden.”

“The Jacobite uprising,” Emma said. She was familiar with that history—the other side of it. “My ancestors were English,” she admitted quietly.

Thayne gave her a wry grin. “I won’t hold it against you. But it seems nothing much has changed here in our land of the free. The Lakota have been driven from their lands, forced to live in government agencies. They can no longer hunt and follow the seasons as they’ve done for generations. Many of the brave ones, the protectors, were killed as they tried to drive the snake—white man—from their lodges. And as with the Scottish clansmen, they were unsuccessful.”

Emma sat quietly, trying to digest all that he had told her. She understood better now his relationship with the Lakota, but many of her questions had gone unanswered. If Thayne was friends with them, then why had they taken something of his? And why couldn’t the United States government provide the Indians a teacher? If what Thayne said was true and the Lakota way of life had been all but wiped out, then why wouldn’t the government encourage the Indians to learn the English language and ways?

She had more questions now, unsettling thoughts about Thayne’s part—then and now—as an intruder in the Black Hills. If he was so adamantly against what had happened to the Lakota, then shouldn’t he feel bad for his part in it?

“Ready for the rest of the story?” Thayne asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“There’s more?”

He chuckled. “Oh, you know there’s more. I can see the questions and accusations as clearly on your face as they’re likely churning in your mind.”

She pressed her lips together, holding back a grin. “
No one
has ever been able to read my mind like you do. Is that another Kendrich trait as well?”

“Maybe.” He winked.

Emmalyne looked at him, astonished at his sudden lighthearted behavior. “Very well, then, since you know my every thought—”

“Oh, not every one,” Thayne said. “Though that would be interesting.” He grinned.

“What
is
my question?” Emma demanded, folding her arms across her chest and looking at him. “What is it you think I want to know?”

Thayne paused, a thoughtful look on his face as he considered. “You’re wondering how I reconcile being one of those responsible for driving the Indians from their lands?”

Emma’s eyes widened, and she nodded silently.

“I don’t, completely,” Thayne said. “Though when I left that Lakota camp after a month, I felt differently about mining.” Thayne slowed the horses and lifted a hand in greeting to a group of Sioux children playing in the creek beside the road.

“Lone Wolf—the man who healed me—speaks English. We spent many hours learning about each other and trying to understand our differences. I came to see the Black Hills as sacred ground, much as the Scottish Highlands were to my own ancestors. Once I felt that way, I knew I couldn’t mine the land anymore. To the Lakota, it is akin to rape.”

“But you’re still here,” Emma said.

Thayne nodded. “Yes, but I don’t mine anymore. I’m still here, working with the land and working with the government and the Lakota, trying to find a way we can live together.” He shook his head dismally. “The Scottish and English never really figured it out. Oh, there’s peace in that region now, but things never returned to the old ways for the clans. I guess I see that same future for the Indian tribes that lived in these parts first. The government will never relinquish the land, but perhaps they’ll allow the Indians to leave the agencies and work the land as we do. That would be better than what they’ve got now.”

Emma turned in her seat, watching the children stare at them. Thayne’s reasons for wanting a teacher were clearer to her, and facing the Lakota, while still a very frightening prospect, now seemed something she could endure. She needed to remember the things Thayne had shared with her. She needed to think of the little boys in his story and remember they were just that, children like those she might have taught in Sterling.

Straightening her back, she sat up in the seat, determined that the only way to get through this was to put her heart into it and do her best. Thayne had said she might go when the job was done. She would hold on to that promise to get her through whatever lay ahead.

Chapter 21

The children lined up to greet them as Thayne guided the wagon through the gates. He stopped the team and jumped from the wagon as Lone Wolf made his way past the little ones.

“You are returned, friend.”

Thayne clasped the older man’s hand firmly. “All is well?”

Lone Wolf nodded. “As well as can be, living as we are here.” He leaned down, speaking to the young girl next to him. She listened to his counsel, then ran off toward one of the many rows of lodges pitched in the camp.

“Red Hawk will be pleased to see you,” Lone Wolf said. “She has taken quite a liking to your son and would not mind if you were to take her into your lodge as his mother.” He looked up at Emma, her face pale as she stood on the wagon step behind Thayne. “Though I see you have found a second wife already.”

Thayne turned back to the wagon and held his hand out to Emma. Feeling her fingers trembling, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then turned back to his friend. “Not a wife but a teacher. This is Emmalyne Madsen. She has come to help with Joshua.”

Emma gave a perfect curtsey. Lone Wolf frowned as he looked her over.

“I do not think she will last two moons,” he said in his native tongue to Thayne. “It is not too late to change your mind and take a Lakota wife.”

Thayne tried to hide his amusement. “You know I cannot. I can do more for your people when I keep myself from within these gates. Were I to live here, the government leaders would not take my counsel as seriously.”

“You have spoken with the great father on our behalf?”

Thayne shook his head, sorry to be disappointing the older man. “Not the great father but one of his emissaries who will take my message to him.”

Beside Thayne, Emma sidled closer as the children crowded around her.

“There is talk of allowing the hunt again,” Thayne said. “I can make no promises, but I have tried to convince them that it is better for all if the Lakota provide for their own instead of relying on annuities from the east.”

“It is well,” Lone Wolf said. “Though I know not what we would hunt for this many together and with the buffalo gone.”

Thayne nodded. Privately, he agreed with Lone Wolf and was very much afraid his words had fallen on deaf ears. But he couldn’t give up, couldn’t bear to think of these brave, proud people living as they were for years to come.

“There is something else,” he said, venturing to bring up the other possibility he had discussed with the agents. “It may be possible in the near future for some—a few at first— to come live and work the land as I do—to raise cattle and plant crops.”

Lone Wolf frowned. “We know nothing of your way, your cows, your houses—”

“Not now,” Thayne said. “But you could learn. Is it not the role of Lakota men to provide for and protect their families?”

Lone Wolf nodded.

“The white man’s way is different, but the result is the same. Our families eat and are safe. I cannot return things to the past for your people, but we can both work toward something—better than this. Think on it as the agents are.”

“We will enjoy your visit then,” Lone Wolf said, ending the conversation for the time being, though Thayne suspected they would speak of such matters long into the night. The Indian turned and spoke to the children clustered around Emma. They scampered off as a woman came toward them, a towheaded little boy held in her arms. Thayne rushed forward and took him from her.

“Joshua.” Thayne hugged his son for a long moment, then pulled back so he could study the toddler’s face. Thayne laughed as little hands went instantly to the stubble on his chin and cheeks. His heart was full as he pressed his son close again.
Never,
he promised silently.
Never again will we be apart as we have been.

“We have changed his name,” Lone Wolf said, amusement lighting his face. “He is no longer Light Hair Who Shows His Bones but Light Hair Who Eats Much.”

Thayne laughed as he patted Joshua’s belly, hanging round and full over the breechclout he was wearing. “You’re right. He has grown.” Thayne looked at Lone Wolf, appreciation in his eyes. “I owe you much, my friend, for keeping my son safe and well.”

“No more than I owe to you, Takes An Arrow.”

* * *

Emma clasped and unclasped her hands nervously as Thayne and the old Indian continued to talk. She edged closer, studying the little boy in Thayne’s arms—
his
little boy. That much was obvious. They were the exact image of each other.
He is what the Lakota took from Thayne.

Blue eyes as brilliant as Thayne’s peered at her over his shoulder, and Emma couldn’t resist smiling at the toddler. He did not smile back but continued to look at her curiously. She reached out, brushing her finger across the top of his fist clutching Thayne’s arm.
He’s hardly more than a baby,
she realized.
Where is his mother? No wonder Thayne joined up with outlaws and took me from the train. If this were my child, I’d have been that desperate too.

Her heart constricted as she pictured Thayne leaving her tomorrow, taking this darling little one with him and going home to his wife. She had never asked if he was married. Though when she thought about the things he’d said, the way he’d apologized for kissing her, and how he’d resisted the opportunity again, it made perfect sense.

Everything did. His son, his purpose in taking her—even his kindness yesterday as he prepared to leave her behind. She felt tears building and knew that this time she would not be able to keep them at bay.

The young woman who had brought Thayne’s son to him came closer, indicating Emmalyne was to follow her. She nodded and, head down, made her way past Thayne and Lone Wolf, still deep in conversation. It was better this way, she told herself. Better that he didn’t see her cry.