Enchanted Heart (21 page)

But, he had not been quick enough. From outside the cave, an arrow flew toward him, finding its target in the boy’s heart. Daniel clutched the arrow that protruded from his chest before he slipped to the ground, his face a mask of horror and shock. When Marty ran to his side, all he could manage to say before he slipped into everlasting sleep was, “I’m…sorry.”

Moments passed while Marty leaned over his body and while she summoned the anger to reach for that rifle and let the bullets fly. No matter that she had no clue as to how to shoot a gun, no matter that she was frightened out of her wits and would probably be killed in the process. She was angry! She was fist-clenching angry at these two savages for killing an innocent boy and she was going to make them pay!

Reverting to her native language, she railed on them with the rifle in her hands ready to fire, “You dirty, stinking savages!”

Neither of the Indians moved, but seemed to be mesmerized by her words. Then, the first one that had entered the cave stepped toward her and said in her own language, “You are German.”

Taken aback by the Indian and the fact that he spoke German to her, she stammered, “Y—Yes.”

The Comanche brave stuck his hand into the air, his palm facing her, his fingers pointing toward the ceiling of the cave and he said, “We come in peace.”

“You come in peace?” she retorted angrily as she lowered the rifle just a bit so that her body could reflect her anger. “Why did you kill that innocent boy then?”

The Indian that had shot Daniel and then had come inside behind the first one merely shrugged and said, “I defended my brother.”

“Well, he wasn’t going to kill you,” she said, not really believing it, but said it nonetheless. “He was defending me.”

Before they could decide who had been at fault, a booming voice echoed throughout the cave as another man came inside, his hulking frame blocking out the sun behind him as he growled, “What’s going on in here, Rising Sun?”

The older Indian turned to face the large man and said in broken English, “I killed white boy. Boy shot first.”

“Well now,” the hulk of a man said as he stepped toward Daniel’s body and examined him closely. “It appears that the boy is dead. You say he shot first?”

“He only reached for his rifle,” Marty corrected, stepping closer so that the burly man could read her angered expression. “The gun went off by accident.”

“Is that the way it happened?” the man asked, looking over her at the two Indians, who looked away in shame. “Well, don’t just stand there scratching your asses—pardon me, Ma’am—find a place to bury him. And cover it up with rocks so the predators don’t get a free meal out of him!”

Marty cringed at the thought of poor Daniel being ripped apart by wolves or coyotes or any other wild creatures and she turned away, chewing on her balled fist.

“Sorry about that, Ma’am,” the man said in earnest as he sidled up to stand next to her. “They’re quick to act and sometimes they act before they think but they’re good boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. Don’t worry none ‘bout your boy there. They’ll dig him a nice deep grave.”

Marty sniffed haughtily before she took her anger out on the man who towered over like the rock that she had stood in front of just days ago and she growled, “Who do you think you are sending your dogs in to kill my friend?”

“Hold on there, Miss,” the man said with his hands in the air. “I didn’t send them in here to kill nobody. We were just headed up here to camp for the night, like we always do when we’re away from home.”

Marty took in a deep breath before she crossed her arms in front of her and said, “So this is your cave.”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, shaking his head. “I just said that we stay here occasionally. We didn’t know there’d be a woman, a kid and—what do we have here?”

When the large man stepped toward Greta, Marty threw herself in front of him, defending her sister with her own life, if need be. She growled at him, “Don’t you go any closer!”

“I ain’t about to hurt her,” he said, peering over Marty’s head at the sickly woman on the pallet. “But it looks to me like she needs some doctoring.”

“Of course she does,” Marty retorted, her anger rising again. “Help will be here soon.”

“Well, if help is coming from Fredericksburg, there ain’t no way there’d be a doctor willing to traipse up here in the hills to save her,” he said, scratching his head through the furry cap. “Matter of fact, I don’t know of any doctor in Fredericksburg at this time. Now, if it’s coming from up north, why, it would take longer for help to get here than it appears that girl’s got to live.”

“Well, it’s coming, you mark my words!” Marty found herself hotly arguing.

“I don’t doubt what you say in the least, little lady,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “What I do doubt is that this little lady will live long enough for help to get to her. Now, what she needs is a warm bed and some good old-fashioned mountain medicine. And pretty damn quick.”

“How?” Marty asked, intrigued as if this man had the answer to healing her sister.

“Let me take her back to my cabin and I’ll show you,” he said with a nod of his large head.

“But, she can’t be moved,” Marty argued.
Besides
, she said inside her head,
I don’t trust you.

“We’ll be gentle with her,” he assured her. “That’s the least that we can do for you after what happened.”

“Well, I suppose. If that is the only way,” Marty said at last, twisting her hands in her skirt while she contemplated whether or not to finally put her trust into this man.

“When the boys come back, we’ll build a nice big fire and have some grub,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “And then in the morning, we’ll light out for my cabin.”

Marty nodded, but then, suddenly realizing that Caid was coming back for them she said, “But, we can’t leave this cave! He’s coming back for us.”

“Who?” The man asked as he towered over her.

“Caid,” she said, and then realized that he did not know Caid. “My fiancé—um--our trail guide. He left yesterday to take the wagon train to Fort Concho and he’s coming back for us…with a doctor.”

“It will be at least a week before he comes back and I don’t think we should leave her unattended for that long,” he said, looking toward Greta. “If gangrene starts in that leg and then spreads throughout her body, it could kill her.”

“Well,” she said, chewing her lip as she thought for a moment. “I suppose I could leave him a note. Where is your cabin?”

He pointed to the north and said, “About ten hours that way, if we hurry.”

“Ten hours,” Marty mused as she remembered that Greta should not be jostled around for very long.

“They will be easy with her, I promise,” the man said.

“They?” Marty asked.

“Hunts-with-a-knife,” Buck said while waving to one of the Indian boys, who grunted and clasped a fist over a large Bowie knife at this waist. “And Rising Sun. They can carry a bucket of water for twenty miles and not spill a drop,” the man assured her.

“If you think that it will be all right, that she will be all right,” Marty said after some deliberation.

“We’ll start in the morning,” the man said agreeably. “We’ll build a fire to keep you warm and to fix you some food. Then, before we leave, we’ll write your man a note on that wall over there with the coals.”

Satisfied that he had worked out all of the details, Marty nodded and let him take over. He sent Hunts-with-a-knife and Rising Sun to find some wood for the fire and to hunt for some ‘grub’. Then, she sat with Greta, who had opened her eyes and asked who was talking and if Caid was back already.

Marty explained to her that someone was here to help them but it was not Caid. She did not mention that Daniel was dead or that they would be moving her again in the morning.

“Where’s my Seraphina?” Greta asked deliriously after soaking in the information that her sister had told her.

“She’s not here, Greta,” Marty said to her sister. “She’s gone ahead with Caid and Elsa and the rest.

“Oh,” Greta said dejectedly and closed her eyes.

The large man unpacked some leather bags to prepare the food and then while they were eating their supper, he finally introduced himself.

“The name’s Henry Buchanan,” he’d said as he’d handed her a piece of roasted rabbit. “Most folks call me Buck.”

Marty observed the hulky man who sat beside the fire on a big rock, tearing the flesh from the bone of the rabbit. His ragged features were heightened in the firelight, making him appear more of a threat than he really was. With his hulking shoulders hunched over and his face attacking the bone as if he were a wolf upon a fresh kill, he looked terrifying to her. His huge muscled arms, which were covered in a buckskin tunic, tossed the leather fringe wildly as he devoured his meal. And his loud, frightening voice echoed off the limestone walls, giving her chills that the fire failed to warm.

But, she summoned the courage to tell him, “I’m pleased to meet you, Buck.” She accepted the meat that he handed her and nodded a thank-you before she said, “My name is Marty and that is my sister Greta.”

“She’s almost an exact duplicate of you, Marty,” Buck said without thinking, his bristly brows rising as if taking flight. He stole a look at the sleeping woman and his heart fluttered in his barrel chest. In his mind, he wondered how he could feel such tender emotion toward a woman that he had never even had the pleasure of meeting. And yet, there before him she sat, awake and talking to him—at least her twin did. But the woman who spoke to him did not evoke such warm feelings within him as the one who slumbered only a few feet away from him. For a moment, just a moment, he wondered why. Then, her sister brought him back to the conversation.

“Yes,” Marty agreed with a smile, although she almost pointed out to him that there were slight differences in their appearance. “She’s my twin sister.”

“I thought as much,” he said with a wink as he sucked the rabbit juice from his thumb. “I haven’t seen a set of twins in—ah it’s been awhile.”

He quickly changed the subject, “Uh, sorry it’s only rabbit. We’d be eatin’ bear meat if something hadn’t tripped my trap.”

Immediately, Marty thought of that poor little fox and Caid’s effort to release it from the steel teeth that had ensnared it. She shrugged and said, although it was a lie, “I like rabbit better.”

The truth was that she didn’t like rabbit or any ‘critter’ other than those that had been domesticated. But she didn’t want to get into that conversation with the burly man who attacked his food with such voracity, a man who seemed to want to ferociously consume meat of any variety, as long as it was meat.

“So, you’re headed up to Fort Concho, are you?” His voice brought her back to the conversation.

Marty swallowed hard before she nodded and answered, “Yes, we are moving there with my cousin and her family.”

The man shook his head and wiped his leather sleeve on his bearded chin before he commented, “Seems like a mighty rowdy place for ladies to be moving to.”

“Yes, I have heard,” Marty agreed. “But, there is a new town being built just five miles away. When it is finished, we will move there and we will have our peace and quiet and still have the protection from the Indians.”

She coughed when she saw Hunts-with-a-knife’s brow furrow in annoyance at her words, then she corrected, “I hear there are Apache and Lipan Indians in this part of the country.”

“Mmm,” Buck grumbled before he sucked the last bit of flesh from the bone and then tossed it into the fire. Deciding not to correct her by telling her that Lipan Indians were Apaches, he said, “Yep, when they get on the warpath, they have no mercy for man, woman or child. They take no prisoners and their lodge poles are decorated with the scalps of their victims. And they don’t have a treaty with the settlers either, so they don’t care whether a person is German or Anglo. If a body’s white, it’s their enemy.”

A sudden illumination of fear settled in his heart at the thought of the sleeping woman in danger of an attack by any breed of Indian and he drew in a breath of cleansing air to chase it away. To Marty, he warned, “Just you be careful!”

Marty shuddered at the thought, but squared her shoulders in bravery before she stood up and dusted off her skirt. Then she defiantly told him, loud enough for Hunts-with-a-knife to hear, “I will. But I guarantee you that two savages will die before I am ever killed by them!”

Buck huffed a hardy chuckle, but he choked it back when Marty stamped her foot in irritation at his mocking behavior. Then, he cleared his throat and said, “I have no doubt, little lady, that you can defend yourself. But, those ‘savages’ are ruthless and notorious for their despicable behavior. You and your sister better stick close to that fort, just in case. That is, if and when she is able to go on.”

Marty seemed to be more composed after his warning and his interjection about Greta’s welfare, but all she could do was nod in an affirmative agreement with him. Then before she turned to check on her sister, she said resolutely, “Greta will be fine.”

She curled her fingers to her sister’s cheek and silently willed her to live. In response to the touch or as if hearing her name had roused her, Greta moaned again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Buck followed Marty to her sister’s side and his face was mangled in concern as he knelt beside the pallet. He looked at the blood-soaked bandage on Greta’s leg and he shook his head. He told Marty that they should be getting up pretty early in order to get back to his cabin sooner rather than later.

Marty nodded in grave agreement. Secretly, she was thankful for the large man who had sauntered into their lives. It was a shame that poor Daniel had lost his life in exchange for their rescuer.