Chasing the Sun (17 page)

Lockhart put away his gun and held out his hand. “What did he give you? Hand it over.”

Berto put a letter in Lockhart’s hand. “He say this is from Miss Hannah.”

“It’s probably some sort of ransom demand,” he said, opening the folded paper. Scanning the note quickly, Lockhart could hardly believe what he read. The Comanche were suffering from smallpox. Hannah was helping the Indians and intended to stay on until they were on the mend. William Barnett was there assisting her and they were both well. She wanted to let the family know so they wouldn’t worry should the two of them be absent for some time.

“What does it say?” Berto asked. “I cannot read English.”

Herbert shook his head and threw the letter to the ground. “Maybe you should learn.”

He stormed out across the yard and rounded the house as Andy Dandridge came out the front door. “Hey there, Mr. Lockhart. What are you doing here?”

“Apparently wasting my time,” Lockhart replied in a clipped tone. He grabbed the reins of his horse and climbed into the saddle. His anger kept him from saying another word. Instead, Lockhart kicked the side of his mount and raced back down the road. He would deal with this matter in the only way those savages could understand. He knew where the local militia was and how he could garner their help. Those Comanche would rue the day they put his plans in jeopardy.

B
y Hannah’s best guess it had to be nearing December. She had spent at least two weeks in the Comanche camp if her figures were correct. It was easy to lose track of time since her focus had been on the sick. William had worked nonstop to bury the dead with Red Dog and Running Buffalo and a few of the others who had recovered from their sickness.

Tradition normally would have dictated more ceremony, but they did well to create a plot for each body on the west side of the village, despite the rocky ground. Hannah was most grateful. The stench of death lessened considerably as the bodies were cared for, and she couldn’t help but believe this would help the overall health of the camp.

For days Hannah had watched the burial process with a strange interest. The Comanche tradition was to bring a person’s knees to their chest, arms on either side of the chest and head bent forward. There was generally a pit where the body was laid along with their weapons. The latter were broken first, Night Bear said, to indicate that the warrior’s fighting days were done. However, He Who Walks in Darkness had told Hannah that he intended to go on warring in the afterlife, so it seemed beliefs were varied.

Generally a warrior’s saddle and other belongings were buried with him, as well, so that he would have plenty of things for his life beyond this world. The Comanche fearlessly confronted the living, but the thought of spirits returning to wreak havoc due to improper burial was terrifying. Once again, superstition had a stronghold over the people.

It hadn’t been easy to dig plots big enough for the bodies, much less all of the accompanying properties, but Mr. Barnett had been intent to see it done as best he could. Hannah was grateful that William was willing to help with this duty. She did what she could to prepare the body prior to its burial, but her time was needed with those still living.

The sounds and smells of life in a Comanche camp permeated even her dreams, though she longed for home and her brother and sister. But even so, Hannah had the strangest peace that she was doing exactly what God wanted her to do. Away from the responsibilities of the ranch, with nothing but time and isolation, she’d thought a great deal about who she had become while living on the Texas frontier. The girl she’d been back in Vicksburg would never have taken on such an endeavor. That girl was forever gone.

After a restless night, Hannah forced her eyes open and wondered at the time. William was gone, but that wasn’t unusual. He had taken to sleeping outside the tepee most nights, and only shared the confines of the shelter when the weather was bad. Hannah knew that normal circumstances would have made such an arrangement a great scandal, but Mr. Barnett had handled himself in a most gentlemanly manner. She could not fault him for his actions.

What she did fault him for was his past choices. She couldn’t shake from her mind the fact that he’d been at Vicksburg—that he’d taken lives there. She knew that war required many sacrifices, but losing her brother and grandfather were not ones she easily accepted. Now perhaps her father had been imprisoned or killed, and that would be one more thing the war had taken from her.

Yawning, she forced herself to get up. She put on her boots, then rebraided her hair in a single plait. Her back ached from sleeping on the ground so long. She couldn’t imagine how the Numunuu endured such a life. They did everything seemingly on the move. Horses were their pride and joy. Hannah had seen a good number of Indian ponies positioned just beyond the camp. Horses were used for trade and bartering as well as war, and the more ponies a warrior owned, the more respected he was. Hannah thought it rather an imbalanced life. Horses were important, but stability and proper houses were not.

Without warning, she heard shouts from outside and then blood-curdling yells filled the air. Gunfire followed, causing Hannah to jump to her feet. She hurried to see what was happening amidst the chaos and had just reached the flap of the tepee when someone came crashing through. Falling backwards, Hannah clung to the person who somehow seemed to roll to one side and take the impact of their fall.

It was then that Hannah saw that William Barnett was the man holding her. “What’s happening?” she demanded.

Bullets zinged around them, cutting through the hide of the shelter. William pushed her head down against his chest and covered her.

“Soldiers,” he managed to tell her above the din. “We’re under attack by the Frontier Army.”

Hannah felt a chill wash over her. How had the soldiers found them? Would they kill everyone or were they merely trying to frighten them?

“Hannah, listen to me,” William said, taking hold of her face. “We need to get out of here. The ground slopes down to the river just behind the tepee. I’ll cut our way out. Stay down on the ground and move toward the river once we’re outside.”

“But why? Why do we have to leave?” she asked. “They’ll see that we are white and not harm us.”

“They won’t stop long enough to check skin color,” he replied. “If you’re living here, they’re gonna figure you to be Comanche or else soiled by association. Now, come on.” He released her and crawled on his belly toward the back of the room. Taking a knife from his boot, Hannah watched as he stabbed the hide and pulled downward.

More bullets passed through the tepee and the unmistakable smell of smoke left Hannah no doubt that the soldiers were setting fire to anything that would burn. Tears filled her eyes. This was murder, plain and simple, just as it was murder when the Comanche did it to the whites.

“Come on. Move.” William motioned her toward the back. Hannah crawled as she’d seen him do and was soon at his side. “I’ll go first, then you follow right behind me. Keep moving and don’t look back.”

Hannah found it impossible to speak. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in fear amidst the screams and gunfire. All around her the world seemed to be coming to an end. Sharp rocks bit into her palms as she dragged herself through the opening. The ground sloped sharply nearly five feet from the tepee, and brush and rocks lined the edge of the ravine. She saw William slide over the edge and disappear. Had he fallen? She reached the place where he’d gone and found him waiting for her. He pulled her over the side without consideration of the terrain. Hannah cried out as her ribs hit the rocky wall.

William pressed her against the rock and held her there. But despite the measure of comfort she felt in his protection, fear enveloped her. She felt faint and worried about whether she might pass out.

After a few moments the gunfire slowed to only occasional shots. There were no more screams, and Hannah could only surmise that the Comanche were all dead. She couldn’t stop her tears and hung her head so that Mr. Barnett would not see them.

As the gunfire ceased altogether, Hannah heard the bellowed orders from one of the soldiers. “Round those savages up. On the double-quick. Find the white hostages.”

Hannah raised her head at this. “Hostages?”

William shook his head. “They most likely concern themselves with hostages anytime they raid a village. Even so, we’ll try to make our way back into camp without getting shot and let them know that we aren’t here against our will.”

Hannah noted the warmth of his body as he held her. She liked the way he made her feel safe—as though nothing in the world could hurt her. When he released her to survey their surroundings, she felt a palpable loss. Why did she have feelings for this man—this man who confused and vexed her?

Helping Hannah back to the top of the ridge, William called out to the soldier’s leader. “Captain! Captain, hold your fire!”

They stepped forward as a mounted officer moved toward them. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“We didn’t need rescuing,” Hannah said, pulling away from William. “These people are sick with smallpox. You had no need to ride in, guns blazing. You’ve surely killed innocent people.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but there is no such thing as an innocent Comanche.”

She wanted to tell the man exactly what she thought of him, but William pulled her back in step with him. “Captain, Miss Dandridge is right. This village is sick with smallpox. Your men have risked their lives coming here.”

“A soldier risks his life wherever the trail takes him,” the man replied. “And who might you be?”

“William Barnett.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Heard tell of some Yankee sympathizers called Barnett. Seems they up and joined the Union to fight against Texas.”

Hannah put herself in front of William at this point. “Sir, I wonder if you might have any water. I’m feeling faint.” She put her hand to her forehead in the manner she’d seen many a young lady do in order to gain attention.

The captain jumped from the horse’s back and pulled free his canteen from around the horn of his saddle. William, meanwhile, took hold of Hannah from behind to steady her.

“Here, take a drink,” the captain ordered.

Hannah did just that. “Goodness,” she said, lowering the canteen and her eyes. “The excitement has been just about too much for me.” She reached out to the captain. “I am sorry for making such a fuss.” She cautiously cast a glance toward William, whose raised brow and expression let her know that he was on to her game.

“Now, ma’am, why don’t you sit for a moment and rest. I have to get back to the detail of rounding up these savages.” He took the canteen and remounted the horse. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay right here so that my men can do their job.”

Hannah started to speak, but Barnett tightened his grip on her. Once the captain was far enough away, Hannah felt William loosen his hold. She turned and looked at him for a moment. The expression on his face was rather puzzling.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not. I cannot let those soldiers further harm the Numunuu.” She started for the camp, but William pulled her back.

“Hannah, listen to me.”

It was the second time he’d called her Hannah, and her heart was beating faster at the realization. She waited for him to continue.

“Those men aren’t going to be sympathetic to your concern for the Numunuu. I think it best if you went on playing the sweet helpless belle for now. You’re really rather good at it.”

“You sound sarcastic,” she said, “but it saved your neck.”

“You have a very low opinion of me, Miss Dandridge.”

Hannah ignored his tone. “What are they going to do to the survivors?” she asked. “What are they gathering them together for? Will they kill them?”

William shook his head as he looked back to where the soldiers were working. “I don’t know.” He turned back to face her. “But you cannot stop whatever they have planned.”

“Well, I can’t stand by and let them be murdered.” She walked away from him, but William quickly caught up to her.

“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I get the feeling these men are here because someone told them we were here.”

She stopped and looked at him. “What are you saying?”

Barnett looked to where a handful of warriors were being forced to stand. Night Bear was at the front of the group. “I think someone found out about our being here and didn’t much care for the idea. I think they probably told the soldiers we were being held captive.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but I intend to find out.”

Seeing that their hands were filled with the remaining Comanche, the captain gave only a token protest when William told him they were returning home. A few hours later, William and Hannah rode up to the Terrys’ ranch house. They were both dirty and exhausted and neither had eaten since that morning. William helped Hannah from her horse and feared she might well crumple to the ground had he not held her fast for a moment.

She rallied and straightened. “I’ve heard of the Terrys, but I’ve not yet met them.”

“Well, it’s high time you did. They’re good folks and your closest neighbor.” William secured the horses. “We’ll stay the night here if they don’t mind, and knowing Ted and Marietta as I do . . . I’m pretty sure they won’t.”

He led the way to the front door. Ted Terry had spared no expense in the latest renovations of his home. Each time William visited, the place seemed more inviting than the last. When he’d been a boy of seventeen, the house had only been a small four-room building. Three years later Ted added a larger living room and kitchen. Five years later he gave Marietta an entire second floor. Having only been here a couple of weeks earlier, however, things were the same. The front porch wrapped around the house in white-washed welcome. The chairs there seemed to beckon a fellow to take a load off his feet and rest a spell. William had done that very thing, visiting with Ted and Marietta on many occasions prior to the war. Those days seemed so long ago.